INTRODUCTION  TO   ETHICS 


INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 


BY 


FRANK   THILLY 

PROFESSOR  OF  PHILOSOPHY   IN   THE    UNIVERSITY 
OF  MISSOURI 


NEW  YORK 

CHARLES   SCRIBNER'S   SONS 
1912 


COPYRIGHT,  IQOO,  BY 
CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 


FKIEDRICH  PAULSEN 

THIS   BOOK   IS   GRATEFULLY   DEDICATED 
BY   HIS    FRIEND   AND   PUPIL 


247102 


TABLE   OF  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER   I 
THE  NATURE  AND  METHODS  OF  ETHICS 

PAGE 

1.  The  Function  of  Science 1 

2.  The  Subject-matter  of  the  Sciences 3 

3.  The  Science  of  Ethics 4 

4.  The  Data  of  Ethics 7 

5.  The  Subject-matter  of  Ethical  Judgment ....  9 

6.  Definition  of  Ethics 11 

7.  The  Interrelation  of  Sciences 12 

8.  Ethics  and  Psychology      .        .        .        .        .        .        .13 

9.  Ethics  and  Politics 16 

r.X10.  Ethics  and  Metaphysics    .......  17 

11.  The  Methods  of  Ethics 20 

12.  Theoretical  Ethics  and  Practical  Ethics    .        .  22 

13.  The  Value  of  Ethics 23 

CHAPTER   II 
THEORIES  OF  CONSCIENCE 

1.  Introduction 26 

2.  The  Mythical  View 27 

-   3.   The  Rationalistic  Intuitionists 28 

(1)  The  Schoolmen 29 

(2)  Cudworth 32 

(3)  Clarke 33 

(4)  Calderwood 34 

4.    The  Emotional  Intuitionists 36 

(1)  Shaftesbury .37 

(2)  Hutcheson .        .38 

(3)  Hume      .    / .         .39 

(4)  Rousseau,  TKant,  A.  Smith,  Herbart,  Brentano       .      41 


viii  TABLE  OF  CONTENTS 


5.   The  Perceptional  Intuitionists  ..... 

PAGB 
42 

-is-  (1)  Butler     
(2)  Martineau       
6.   The  Empiricists         ....... 

(2)  Locke     
(3)  Helve"tius        

.       42 
.       43 

.       47 
.      47 
.       48 
53 

(4)  Paley      

.       54 

V  (5)  Bentham         

.       55 

(6)  Hartley  

.       56 

(7)  Bain        

.       57 

7.    Reconciliation  of  Intuitionism  and  Empiricism 

.       59 

^^(1^)  Kant        ........ 

.       60 

(2)  Darwin   

.       64 

(3)  Spencer  

.       66 

(4)  Contemporaries       

72 

CHAPTER  III 

ANALYSIS  AND  EXPLANATION  OF  CONSCIENCE 

1.   The  Psychological  Facts  

74 

2.   Analysis  of  Conscience     ...... 

76 

3.   The  Feeling  of  Obligation         

79 

4.   The  Feelings  of  Approval  and  Disapproval 

.      82 

83 

85 

7.    Criticism  of  Emotional  Intuitiouism 

.      91 

8.   Genesis  of  Conscience       

.      93 

9.    In  what  Sense  Conscience  is  Innate 

.     100 

10.    The  Infallibility  and  Immediacy  of  Conscience 

.     105 

11.    Conscience  and  Inclination       

.     107 

12.    The  Historical  View  and  Morality    .... 

.     Ill 

CHAPTER  IV 

THE  ULTIMATE  GROUND  OF  MORAL  DISTINCTIONS 

1.   Conscience  as  the  Standard      ..... 

.     116 

2.  The  Theological  View 

117 

TABLE  OF  CONTENTS  ix 


3. 

The  Popular  View     

PAGE 

.     118 

4. 

The  Teleological  View      ...... 

118 

5. 

119 

6. 

Teleological  Schools  

.     125 

7. 

Summary  

.     127 

CHAPTER  V 

THE  TELEOLOGICAL  VIEW 

1. 

Conscience  and  Teleology         ..... 

.     129 

2. 

Categorical  and  Hypothetical  Imperatives 

.     133 

3. 

Actual  Effects  and  Natural  Effects   .... 

.     134 

4. 

A  Hypothetical  Question  answered  .... 

.     136 

5. 

Morality  and  Prosperity   ...... 

.     137 

6. 

Imperfect  Moral  Codes     ...... 

.     137 

7. 

Moral  Reform   

.     139 

8. 

The  Ultimate  Sanction  of  the  Moral  Law 

.     140 

9. 

Motives  and  Effects  ....... 

.     141 

10. 

146 

11. 

150 

12. 

Teleology  and  Irituitionisin       

.     152 

CHAPTER  VI 

THEORIES  OF  THE  HIGHEST  GOOD  :  HEDONISM 

1. 

The  Standard  of  Morality  and  the  Highest  Good      . 

.     155 

2. 

The  Greek  Formulation  of  the  Problem    . 

.     156 

3. 

The  Cyrenaics  

.     158 

V4. 

Epicurus   ......... 

.     160 

5. 

Democritus       

.     162 

6. 

Locke        

.     163 

r  7. 

Butler       

.     164 

8. 

165 

9. 

Hume        ...        

.     166 

10. 

Paley         

.     167 

f1}' 

Bentham  

.     168 

John  Stuart  Mill       

.     169 

13. 

Sidgwick  and  Contemporaries  ..... 

.     173 

14. 

General  Survey         .....         • 

.     170 

x  TABLE  OF  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  VII 
THEORIES  OF  THE  HIGHEST  GOOD:  ENERGISM. 

PAGE 

1.  Socrates    ..........  180 

2.  Plato         .        .        ........  181 

3.  Thie  Cynics        .........  183 

4.  Aristotle    .        .        .        ......        .184 

5.  The  Stoics         ......        .        .        .186 

6.  The  Neo-Platonists  ........  188 

7.  Hobbes      .....        .....  190 

8.  Spinoza     ..........  190 

9.  Cumberland      .........  193 

10.  Shaftesbury       .        ........  194 

11.  Darwin      ..........  195 

12.  Stephen     ......                 ...  197 

13.  Jhering     ..........  198 

14.  Wundt  and  Contemporaries      ......  199 

15.  Kctnt          ..........  200 

16.  General  Survey         ........  203 


CHAPTER 
CRITIQUE  OF  HEDONISM 

\  1.  The  Conception  of  the  Highest  Good        .        .        .        .205 

^2.  Pleasure  as  the  Highest  Good  ......     207 

3.  The  Antecedents  of  Action       ......     209 

4.  The  Antecedents  of  Volition     ......    215 

5.  Conclusions       .....         ....     217 

6.  The  Hedonistic  Psychology  of  Action       .        .        .        .217 

7.  Present  or  Apprehended  Pleasure-pain  as  the  Motive      .     218 

8.  Present  Pleasure-pain  as  the  Motive         ....     228 

9.  Pain  as  the  Motive    ........     232 

10.  Unconscious  Pleasure-pain  as  the  Motive          .        .        .     234 

The  Psychological  Fallacies  of  Hedonism  .  .  .236 

12.  The  Pleasure  of  the  Race  as  the  Motive   .  .  .  .239 

13.  Pleasure  as  the  End  realized  by  All  Action  .  .  .    239 

14.  Pleasure-pain  as  a  Means  of  Preservation  .  .  .     242 

15.  The  Physiological  Basis  of  Pleasure-pain  .  .  .     246 

16.  Metaphysical  Hedonism    .......     247 

17.  Pleasure  as  the  Moral  End       .        .        .  .  .  249 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS  xi 

CHAPTER  IX 

v 

THE  HIGHEST  GOOD 

PAGE 

1.  The  Question  of  Ends  or  Ideals  ^ 250 

2.  The  Ideal  of  Humanity 253 

3.  Egoism  and  Altruism 258 

4.  The  Effects  of  Action       .......  258 

5.  The  Motives  of  Action .261 

6.  Criticism  of  Egoism  . 263 

7.  Selfishness  and  Sympathy 267 

8.  Moral  Motive  and  Moral  Action       .....  269 

9.  Biology  and  the  Highest  Good 276 

10.  Morality  and  the  Highest  Good 278 

11.  Conclusion 284 

CHAPTER  X 

OPTIMISM  VERSUS  PESSIMISM 

1.  Optimism  and  Pessimism 286 

2.  Subjective  Pessimism 287 

3.  Scientific  Pessimism 289 

4.  Intellectual  Pessimism 291 

6.   Emotional  Pessimism 292 

6.  Volitional  Pessimism 303 

CHAPTER  XI 
CHARACTER  AND  FREEDOM 

1.  Virtues  and  Vices 311 

2.  Character 313 

3.  The  Freedom  of  the  Will 316 

4.  Determinism 319 

5.  Theological  Theories 323 

6.  Metaphysical  Theories      . 324 

7.  Reconciliation  of  Freedom  and  Determinism    .        .        .  327 

8.  Criticism  of  Indeterminism       ......  329 

9.  The  Consciousness  of  Freedom 334 

10.  Responsibility 336 

11.  Determinism  and  Practice 337 

INDEX  341 


INTRODUCTION  TO   ETHICS 

CHAPTER  I 

THE  NATUKE  AND  METHODS  OF  ETHICS  1 

1.  The  Function  of  Science.  —  The  world  presents 
us  with  an  endless  array  of  phenomena.  These 
phenomena  the  human  mind  observes  and  endeavors 
to  understand.  It  notices  that  things  and  occur- 
rences are,  to  a  certain  extent,  uniform  and  constant, 
that  nature  is  regular  and  orderly.  The  intellect  of 
man  strives  to  detect  similarities  or  uniformities  in 
things  and  actions,  and  to  arrange  these  in  groups 
or  classes.  It  brings  order  into  apparent  confusion, 

1  Sidgwick,  The  Methods  of  Ethics,  pp.  1-24 ;  The  History  of 
Ethics,  chap,  i ;  Stephen,  The  Science  of  Ethics,  pp.  1-40 ;  Schur- 
man,  The  Ethical  Import  of  Darwinism,  pp.  1-37  ;  Hoffding,  Ethik, 
pp.  1-54 ;  Miinsterberg,  Der  Ursprung  der  Sittlichkeit,  pp.  1-10  ; 
Wundt,  Ethics,  English  translation,  pp.  1-20 ;  Paulsen,  A  System, 
of  Ethics,  edited  and  translated  by  Frank  Thilly,  pp.  1-29 ;  Muir- 
head,  Elements  of  Ethics,  pp.  1-39  ;  Mackenzie,  Manual  of  Ethics, 
pp.  1-31,  324-328 ;  Hyslop,  The  Elements  of  Ethics,  pp.  1-17 ; 
J.  Seth,  A  Study  of  Ethical  Principles,  pp.  1-35 ;  Marion,  Lemons 
de  morale,  chap,  i ;  Runze,  Ethik,  Vol.  I,  pp.  1-16 ;  Dorner,  Das 
menschliche  Handeln,  Introduction  ;  Sigwart,  Logic,  translated  by 
Helen  Dendy,  Vol.  II,  pp.  529  ff .  The  beginner  will  find  the  works 
of  Paulsen,  Muirhead,  Mackenzie,  and  Hyslop  especially  serviceable 
in  connection  with  this  chapter. 

B  1 


INTRODUCTION-  TO  ETHICS 

it  makes  a  cosmos  out  of  the  chaos,  it  analyzes  and 
classifies. 

But  it  does  not  stop  here.  It  would  know  why 
things  are  as  they  are,  why  they  act  as  they  act. 
,  The  thinker  is  not  content  with  knowing  what  is; 
the  great  question  is,  Why  is  it  so,  what  is  the  rea- 
son for  its  being  as  it  is  ?  What  is  its  relation  to 
other  things  and  occurrences,  what  are  the  antece- 
dents and  concomitants  upon  which  it  is  said  to 
depend,  and  without  which  it  cannot  be  what  it  is  ? 
What  are  its  consequents  or  effects  ;  in  short,  what 
place  does  it  occupy  in  the  world  of  facts,  how  does  it 
fit  into  the  system  of  things  ?  The  tendency  to  find 
out  the  why  and  wherefore  of  things  is  universal; 
it  manifests  itself  in  the  child  who  wonders  "  what 
makes  the  wheels  go  round"  in  his  plaything,  no 
less  than  in  the  natural  philosopher  who  longs 
to  know  why  the  rain  falls  and  the  wind  blows 
and  the  grass  grows.  And  there  is  something 
of  a  Newton  in  the  most  superstitious  savage. 
Science  begins  with  a  question  mark;  it  begins  when 
reasons  are  sought  after,  and  its  perfection  is  meas- 
ured by  the  manner  in  which  its  problems  are  solved. 
Events  which  were  once  explained  by  supernatural 
causes  are  now  referred  to  their  natural  antecedents 
or  concomitants,  but  the  scientific  instinct  is  essen- 
tially the  same  as  in  those  dark  acres  when  our  be- 

•/  o 

nighted  forefathers  ascribed  the  thunder  to  the 
thunder  god,  and  regarded  Apollo  as  the  hurler  of 
the  shafts  of  disease  and  death.  The  scientist  is 


THE  NATURE  AND  METHODS  OF  ETHICS         3 

born  when  man  begins  to  wonder  at  facts,  and  aims 
to  correlate  them  with  other  facts  or  insert  them 
into  a  system,  be  it  ever  so  crude.1 

2.  The  Subject-matter  of  the  Sciences.  —  Science, 
therefore,  analyzes,  classifies,  and  explains  phenomena. 
Now  we  may,  for  the  sake  of  order  and  convenience, 
arrange  these  phenomena  into  different  groups  or 
classes,  and  form  different  sciences.  Each  particular 
science  marks  out  for  itself  a  particular  subject- 
matter,  and  studies  this.  Thus  physics  investigates 
the  general  properties  of  matter,  biology  treats  of 
matter  in  the  living  state,  psychology  examines 
mental  processes  or  states  of  consciousness.  Each 
of  these  sciences  may  in  turn  be  subdivided  until 
we  have  an  endless  number  of  special  sciences,  cor- 
responding to  limited  fields  of  investigation.  In 
every  case,  however,  the  attempt  is  made  not  only 


1  See  Muirhead,  The  Elements  of  Ethics,  §  8 ;  Hibben,  Induc- 
tive Logic,  chap,  i ;  Creighton,  Logic,  §§  49,  59  ff .,  78,  88 ;  Sigwart, 
Logic,  Vol.  II,  pp.  417  ff.  I  quote  from  Creighton's  Logic,  p.  285  : 
"We  have  said  that  Judgment  constructs  a  system  of  knowledge. 
This  implies,  then,  that  it  is  not  merely  a  process  of  adding  one 
fact  to  another,  as  we  might  add  one  stone  to  another  to  form  a 
heap.  No !  Judgment  combines  the  new  facts  with  which  it  deals 
with  what  is  already  known,  in  such  a  way  as  to  give  to  each  its 
own  proper  place.  Different  facts  are  not  only  brought  together, 
but  they  are  arranged,  related,  systematized.  No  fact  is  allowed 
to  stand  by  itself,  but  has  to  take  its  place  as  a  member  of  a  larger 
system  of  facts,  and  receive  its  value  from  this  connection.  Of 
course,  a  single  judgment  is  not  sufficient  to  bring  a  large  number 
of  facts  into  relation  in  this  way.  But  each  judgment  contributes 
something  to  this  end,  and  brings  some  new  fact  into  relation  to 
what  is  already  known." 


4  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

to  analyze  and  classify  and  describe,  but  also  to 
explain,  to  account  for  a  particular  group  of  facts, 
to  tell  why  they  are  so  and  not  otherwise,  to  ascer- 
tain the  conditions  or  circumstances  which  made 
them  what  they  are,  to  relate  them  to  other  facts, 
to  insert  them  into  a  system,  as  was  indicated  above. 
3.  The  Science  of  Ethics.  —  Among  the  sciences 
referred  to  is  one  called  ethics,  which  we  are  going 
to  study  in  this  book.  It  will  be  our  business, 
first  of  all,  to  specify  the  facts  or  phenomena,  the 
subject-matter,  with  which  this  branch  of  knowl- 
edge concerns  itself.  And  here,  perhaps,  the  differ- 
ent names  that  have  been  used  at  various  times  to 
designate  our  science  may  help  us  to  understand 
its  boundaries.  The  ancient  Greeks  employed  the 
terms,  ra  fjOiicd  (ta  ethica),  rjOifcrj  eVtcrTT//*?;  (ethice 
episteme),  ethics,  ethical  science.1  The  word  jjOifcfa 
is  derived  from  the  word  rfOos  (ethos),  character,  dis- 
position, which  is  connected  with  eflo?  (ethos),  custom 
or  habit.  The  Latin  equivalent  for  the  name  ethics 
is  philosophies  moralis,2  from  which  comes  the  English 

1  Though  Aristotle  (died  323  B.C.)  was  perhaps  the  first  to  em- 
ploy the  term  ethics  in  a  strictly  technical  sense,  the  name  was 
used  by  Xenocrates  (313  B.C.),  and  perhaps  also  by  the  Cyrenaics. 
See  Sextus  Empiricus,   Ad.    Mathematicos,   VII,   15.      See  also 
Kunze,  Ethik,  p.  1 ;  Wundt,  Ethics,  Part  I,  chap.  i. 

2  See  Wundt,  Ethics,  English  translation,  p.  26:  "The  term 
moralis,  which  gave  rise  to  the  expression  philosophia  moralis, 
was  a  direct  translation  from  Aristotle.    Cicero  remarks  expressly, 
in  the  passage  where  he  introduces  the  word,  that  he  has  formed  it 
on  the  analogy  of  the  Greek  ethicos  (i70i/c6s),  'in  order  to  enrich 
the  Latin  language.' " 


THE  NATURE  AND  METHODS  OF  ETHICS        5 

appellation,  moral  philosophy  or  moral  science.1  The 
term  practical  philosophy  is  also  used  as  a  synonym 
of  ethics,  or  as  a  more  comprehensive  generic  term 
including  both  ethics  and  politics ; 2  practical  because 
it  investigates  practice  or  conduct.3 

The  subject-matter  of  ethics  is  morality,  the  phe- 
nomenon of  right  and  wrong.  It  is  a  fact  that  men 
call  certain  characters  and  actions  moral  and  im- 
moral, right  and  wrong,  good  and  bad,  that  they 
approve  of  them  and  disapprove  of  them,  express 
moral  judgments  upon  them,  evaluate  them.  They 
feel  morally  bound  to  do  certain  things  or  to  leave 
them  undone,  they  recognize  the  authority  of  cer- 
tain rules  or  laws,  and  acknowledge  their  binding 

1  Compare  the  titles  of  the  works  of  Paley,  Stewart,  Reid,  Cal- 
derwood,  Porter,  Bain,   Bentham,  Whewell,   Price,   Hume,  and 
others. 

2  Compare  Lotze,  Practische  Philosophic;  Hodgson,  Theory  of 
Practice. 

3  The  term  ethics  is  the  preferable  one,  as  it  is  freest  from 
ambiguity.     The  name  moral  philosophy,  or  moral  science,  was 
formerly  used  in  the  sense  of  mental  science  to  distinguish  the 
study  of  mental  phenomena  from  that  of  physical  phenomena,  or 
natural  philosophy.    The  term  practical  philosophy  is  also  mislead- 
ing.*   The  science  which  studies  the  principles  of  conduct  or  prac- 
tice is  just  as  theoretical  as  physics,  physiology,  or  chemistry. 
Ethics  is,  like  all  sciences,  both  speculative  and  practical,  both  a 
science  and  an  art.     It  is  speculative,  or  theoretical,  in  so  far  as  it 
analyzes,  classifies,  and  explains  its  phenomena,  or  searches  after 
their  principles  or  laws,  practical  in  so  far  as  it  applies  these  princi- 
ples or  laws,  or  puts  them  into  practice.     Physiology  and  chemistry 
are  theories,  medicine  is  practice,  or  the  application  of  the  laws 
or  truths  discovered  by  biology,  chemistry,  and  physics.     It  is 
confusing  to  call  ethics  practical  philosophy  simply  because  it 
deals  with  practice.    See  §  12  of  this  chapter. 


6  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

force.  They  say:  This  ought  to  be  done,  this  ought 
not  to  be  done  ;  thou  shalt,  and  thou  shalt  not.  In 
short,  we  seem  to  approach  the  world  with  a  certain 
moral  form  or  category,  to  impress  it  with  a  certain 
moral  stamp ;  we  look  at  it  through  moral  spectacles, 
as  it  were. 

Now  this  fact  is  as  capable  and  as  worthy  of  in- 
vestigation as  any  other  fact  in  the  universe,  and  we 
need  a  science  that  will  subject  it  to  careful  analysis. 
Three  problems  here  present  themselves  for  our 
consideration.  (1)  What  differentiates  the  subject- 
matter  of  ethics  from  that  of  other  fields  of  knowl- 
edge? What  is  there  in  an  ethical  phenomenon 
that  allows  us  to  refer  it  to  a  special  class  ?  In  what 
does  it  differ  from  a  fact  of  physics  or  aesthetics? 
(2)  How  shall  we  explain  the  fact  that  men  judge 
ethically,  that  they  pronounce  judgment  as  they  do  ? 
What  do  we  mean  when  we  say  that  an  act  is  right 
or  wrong ;  what  is  taking  place  in  our  consciousness 
under  these  circumstances?  Is  there  anything  in 
man  that  makes  him  judge  as  he  judges,  and  what 
is  it?  Why  does  man  evaluate  as  he  does?  Is  it 
because  certain  moral  truths  are  written  on  his  heart, 
because  he  possesses  an  innate  faculty  of  knowledge, 
a  conscience,  a  universal,  original,  immutable  power 
of  the  soul  that  enables  him  immediately  to  discrim- 
inate the  right  from  the  wrong?  Or  do  we  grad- 
ually learn  to  make  moral  distinctions  ;  is  the  ability 
to  judge  morally  which  we  now  possess  an  acquired 
one,  a  product  of  evolution,  and  as  such  capable 


THE  NATURE  AND  METHODS  OF  ETHICS    7 

of  further  development?  (3)  What  is  the  nature 
of  acts  which  are  designated  as  right  and  wrong  ? 
Why  are  they  right  and  wrong  ?  Is  there  anything 
in  them,  any  quality  or  attribute,  that  makes  them 
right  and  wrong,  or  that  makes  men  call  them  so  ? 
If  so,  what  is  it? 

All  these  are  questions  for  the  moralist  to  decide. 
He  must  calmly,  carefully,  and  impartially  investi- 
gate the  facts,  and,  if  possible,  explain  them  ;  he 
must  search  after  the  principles  or  laws  under- 
lying them,  if  there  be  any  ;  he  must  unify  them, 
if  that  can  be  done.  He  must  analyze  and  explain 
both  character  and  conduct,  the  inside  and  outside  of 
action,  the  mental  factor,  conscience,  or  moral  judg- 
ment, and  the  physical  factor,  the  act  which  it 
judges.  He  must  tell  us  what  they  are,  and  why 
they  are  so ;  he  must  account  for  them,  show  us 
their  raison  d^tre,  indicate  to  us  the  place  which 
they  occupy  in  the  system  of  things. 

4.  The  Data  of  Ethics.  —  We  have  stated  in  a 
general  way  what  is  the  subject-matter  with  which 
our  science  deals,  and  how  it  is  to  be  treated.  Let 
us  now  attempt  to  show  what  differentiates  ethical 
facts  from  other  facts.  Let  us  imagine  that  a 
person  has  killed  a  fellow-creature  with  malice 
aforethought.  We  call  the  deed  murder,  we  pro- 
nounce moral  judgment  upon  it ;  we  say,  It  is  wrong, 
wicked,  reprehensible.  The  same  act,  however,  may 
be  looked  at  from  the  physical  or  physiological  point 
of  view.  The  energy  stored  up  in  the  brain  cells  of 


8  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHfCS 

the  murderer  was  liberated  by  certain  currents  com- 
ing from  the  periphery,  and  discharged  into  efferent 
nerves  connected  with  certain  muscles,  which  pro- 
duced the  movement  of  the  arm  and  hand  holding  the 
weapon  of  destruction.  And  the  blow  on  the  victim's 
skull  so  injured  his  brain  and  the  vital  functions  de- 
pendent upon  the  nervous  system  as  to  cause  death. 
The  prosecuting  attorney,  ignoring  the  physiological 
and  even  moral  factors  involved,  may  look  at  the  act 
purely  from  the  legal  standpoint.  To  kill  a  person 
with  malice  aforethought  is  a  crime  prohibited  by  law 
and  punishable  by  death.  The  psychologist  may  try 
to  explain  the  psychology  of  the  entire  affair.  Certain 
motives  were  aroused  in  the  mind  of  the  murderer 
by  the  behavior  of  his  future  victim.  These  motives 
became  more  and  more  intense,  and  the  inhibitions 
weaker  and  weaker,  until  a  resolution  was  finally 
formed  which  led  to  the  act. 

We  see,  one  and  the  same  circumstance  may  be 
examined  from  different  points  of  view  ;  each  indi- 
vidual thinker  may  select  particular  elements  in  it 
for  study,  and  ignore  the  others.  The  physicist 
looks  at  the  rainbow  and  tries  to  understand  its 
physical  conditions.  I  may  contemplate  it  and  call 
it  beautiful,  and  then  ask  myself  what  makes  it 
beautiful ;  why  is  it  that  the  contemplation  of  such 
a  phenomenon  arouses  a  peculiar  aesthetic  feeling  in 
me  ?  The  science  of  aesthetics  is  appealed  to  for 
an  answer  to  this  question.  In  ethics  we  do  not 
care  for  the  physical  or  physiological  causes  which 


THE  NATURE  AND  METHODS  OF  ETHICS   9 

have  produced  the  acts,  motives,  and  characters  with 
which  we  are  concerned ;  all  these  have  interest  for 
us  only  because,  and  in  so  far  as,  we  stamp  them 
with  a  certain  value,  only  because  they  bear  a  certain 
relation  to  the  human  soul,  only  because  they  pro- 
voke peculiar  ethical  feelings  and  judgments  in  us. 
Acts  which  are  capable  of  exciting  such  judgments 
fall  within  the  province  of  the  science  of  ethics. 
There  could  be  no  science  of  ethics  if  no  one  ever 
approved  and  disapproved  of  things,  if  no  one  ever 
called  things  right  and  wrong.  If  the  contemplation 
of  certain  acts  and  motives  did  not  arouse  in  us 
ethical  feelings  and  judgments,  there  could  be  no 
science  of  ethics  because  there  would  be  no  facts 
for  ethics  to  study.  We  might  perhaps  be  perfect 
physicists,  physiologists,  astronomers,  and  even  phi- 
losophers, but  we  should  never  pronounce  moral 
judgment  upon  an  act.  That  we  place  a  value  upon 
things,  that  we  call  them  right  or  good,  wrong  or 
lad,  is  the  important  fact  in  ethics,  is  what  makes 
a  science  of  ethics  possible.1 

5.  The  Subject-matter  of  Ethical  Judgment.  —  We 
said  before  that  moral  judgment  was  pronounced  upon 
acts,  but,  we  must  add,  not  upon  all  acts.  We  do 
not  feel  like  judging  unless  the  act  is  the  product 
of  some  conscious  being  like  ourself.  We  do  not 
call  an  earthquake  or  a  cyclone  right  or  wrong ;  as 
Martineau  says,  "  we  neither  applaud  the  gold-mine 

1  See  Hoffding,  fflhik,  III,  and  his  Ethische  PrincipienleUre ; 
Miinsterberg,  Der  Ur sprung  der  Sittlichkeit,  pp.  10  ft 


10  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

nor  blame  the  destructive  storm."1  The  child  and 
the  savage  may  applaud  and  condemn  such  occur- 
rences and  inanimate  objects,  but  this  is  most  likely 
because  they  regard  them  as  endowed  with  soul,  or 
because  they  have  heard  others  do  so.  Generally 
speaking,  we  nowadays  limit  our  judgments  to  the 
actions  of  conscious  human  beings.  We  expect 
the  act  to  have  a  mental  or  ps}rchical  background. 
When  the  act  is  the  expression  of  a  conscious  human 
being,  we  feel  like  judging  it  morally.  But  when 
we  are  told  that  the  agent  did  not  control  it,  that  it 
occurred  without  his  willing  it,  or  that  he  was  not 
capable  of  reasoning  and  feeling  and  willing  in  a 
healthy  manner  at  the  time  of  its  performance,  then 
we  withhold  our  judgment.  We  do  not  praise  or 
blame  the  movements  made  in  an  epileptic  fit,  or 
hypnotic  trance,  or  in  sleep,  or  reflex  actions  over 
which  the  person  has  no  power.  Nor  do  we  con- 
demn or  approve  of  the  acts  of  a  lunatic.  But  in 
case  any  of  the  acts  under  consideration  are  the 
necessary  consequents  of  some  previous  conduct  of 
the  doer,  which,  we  believe,  he  might  have  avoided, 
we  pronounce  judgment  upon  them,  or  at  any  rate 
upon  Kim.  Wherever  we  are  convinced  that  the  acts 
were  purely  mechanical,  that  -  is,  physically  deter- 
mined, and  not  accompanied  by  consciousness,  we 
do  not  judge  them  morally.  But  whenever  con- 
sciousness is  present  in  the  performance  of  the  act, 
we  are  tempted  to  judge. 

1  Types  of  Ethical  Theory,  Vol.  II,  p.  20. 


THE  NATURE  AND  METHODS  OF  ETHICS   11 

Let  us  therefore  say  that  the  subject-matter  of 
ethical  judgment  is  human  conduct,  that  is,  con- 
sciously purposive  action.1  We  must  not  forget, 
however,  that  this  was  not  always  the  case,  and  is 
not  even  now,  perhaps,  universally  true.  But  it 
makes  no  difference  to  us  here  upon  what  the  mind 
pronounces  its  judgments.  The  important  thing  for 
ethics  is  that  such  judgments  are  pronounced  at  all, 
and  it  is  the  business  of  the  science  to  examine  every 
fact  or  act  which  is  judged  ethically,  or  is  capable 
of  being  so  judged. 

6.  Definition  of  Ethics.  —  Ethics  may  now  be 
roughly  denned  as  the  science  of  right  and  wrong, 
the  science  of  duty,  the  science  of  moral  princi- 
ples, the  science-  of  moral  judgment  and  conduct.  It 
analyzes,  classifies,  describes,  and  explains  moral  phe- 
nomena, on  their  subjective  as  well  as  on  their  objective 
side.  It  tells  us  what  these  phenomena  are,  separates 
them  into  their  constituent  elements,  and  refers  them 
to  their  antecedents  or  conditions ;  it  discovers  the 
principles  upon  which  they  are  based,  the  laws  which 
govern  them  ;  it  explains  their  origin  and  traces  their 
development.  In  short,  it  reflects  upon  them,  thinks 
them  over,  attempts  to  answer  all  possible  questions 
which  may  be  asked  with  reference  to  them.  It 
does  with  its  facts  what  every  science  does  with  its 
subject-matter  :  it  strives  to  know  everything  that 

1  See  Seth,  A  Study  of  Ethical  Principles,  chap,  i ;  Spencer, 
Data  of  Ethics,  chap  i ;  Muirhead,  A  Manual  of  Ethics,  pp.  15-17  ; 
Martineau,  op.  cit.,  Vol.  II,  chap.  i. 


12  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

can   be   known   about  them,  to   correlate  them,  to 
unify  them,  to  insert  them  into  a  system. 

7.  The  Interrelation  of  Sciences.  —  When  we  say, 
however,  as  we  did  before,  that  there  are  separate 
sciences,  we  do  not  wish  to  be  understood  as  mean- 
ing that  these  sciences  are  absolutely  distinct  from 
each  other,  that  their  respective  facts  are  to  be 
studied  apart  from  all  other  phenomena  in  the 
world.  This  is  not  the  case.  The  world  presents 
itself  to  us  as  one,  as  a  unity,  a  concrete  whole. 
The  mind  splits  it  up  into  parts,  but  these  parts  are 
by  no  means  really  separate,  independent  entities. 
No  phenomenon  can  be  thoroughly  understood  in  iso- 
lation, apart  from  all  other  phenomena.  Strictly 
speaking,  we  cannot  know  one  fact  without  know- 
ing them  all.  "To  know  one  thing  thoroughly," 
as  Professor  James  says,  "  would  be  to  know  the 
whole  universe.  Mediately  or  immediately,  that 
one  thing  is  related  to  everything  else ;  and  to 
know  all  about  it,  all  its  relations  need  be  known."1 
Tennyson  expresses  the  same  idea  poetically  in  the 
oft-quoted  lines  :  — 

"Little  flower  —  but  if  I  could  understand 
What  you  are,  root  and  all,  and  all  in  all, 
I  should  know  what  God  and  man  is." 

iSee  Leibniz,  Monadology,  §  61:  "Everybody  is  affected  by 
everything  that  happens  in  the  world,  so  that  a  man  seeing  every- 
thing would  know  from  each  particular  object  everything  that  takes 
place  everywhere,  as  well  as  what  has  taken  place  and  will  take 
place ;  he  perceives  in  the  present  that  which  is  remote  in  time  and 
space."  Cf.  Paulsen,  Introduction  to  Philosophy,  translated  by 
Frank  Thilly,  pp.  145  ff. 


THE  NATURE  AND  METHODS  OF  ETHICS      13 

And  as  the  world  is  one,  science  is  one.  Sciences 
depend  upon  each  other,  are  subservient  to  each 
other.  Thus  the  facts  of  psychology  are  in  some 
way  related  to  the  facts  of  physiology  and  physics ; 
we  cannot  study  the  phenomenon  of  sensation  with- 
out referring  to  the  functions  of  the  nervous  sys- 
tem and  the  properties  of  matter. 

8.  Ethics  and  Psychology.  —  Inasmuch  as  the  facts 
of  ethics  are  not  isolated  and  independent,  but  are 
connected  with  the  rest  of  the  world,  it  is  natural 
that  the  science  of  ethics  should  stand  in  some 
relation  to  the  other  sciences.  If  ethics  is  con- 
cerned with  human  beings,  it  will  necessarily  have 
something  to  do  with  the  science  of  human  nature. 
If  ethics  has  to  examine  the  conduct  of  man,  and 
if  conduct  is  not  merely  physical  movement,  but  the 
outward  expression,  or  sign,  or  aspect,  of  states  of 
consciousness,  and  if  the  important  thing  in  ethics 
is  the  fact  that  human  beings  judge  of  things  in 
a  certain  way,  then,  of  course,  ethics  is  bound  to 
depend,  in  a  large  measure,  upon  psychology.  Psy- 
chology analyzes,  classifies,  and  explains  states  of 
consciousness.  Although  all  such  states  are  of  in- 
terest to  the  moralist,  some  of  them  require  especial 
attention  from  him.  The  so-called  ethical  senti- 
ments, the  feeling  of  obligation,  etc.,  are  mental 
phenomena,  and  as  such  must  be  analyzed  and  ex- 
plained by  him  ;  and  they  cannot  be  treated  apart 
from  the  rest  of  consciousness.  Thus,  when  the 
ethicist  analyzes  and  describes  the  conscience,  he 


14  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

is  doing  the  work  of  the  psychologist.  And  when 
he  studies  the  moral  nature  of  the  infant  and  the 
primitive  man,  as  he  sometimes  does,  with  a  view  to 
tracing  the  development  of  the  conscience,  he  is 
still  within  the  field  of  psychology.  He  may  like- 
wise consider  animal  states  of  consciousness,  and 
search  for  the  beginnings  of  conscience  there,  as 
Darwin  did,  in  which  case  he  is  pursuing  a  psycho- 
logical investigation. 

Indeed,  we  may  say  that  in  so  far  as  ethics  deals 
with  moral  states  of  consciousness,  it  is  simply  a  spe- 
cial branch  of  psychology.1  But  our  science  does  not 
only  look  at  the  subjective  side  of  conduct,  it  inves- 
tigates the  objective  side  also,  and  the  relation  which 
this  bears  to  the  subjective.  What,  it  asks,  is  the 
nature  of  the  acts  which  are  judged  moral ;  do  they 
possess  some  mark  or  characteristic  that  makes  them 
moral  or  leads  men  to  call  them  so?  Why  do  men 
judge  as  they  do ;  what  is  the  ground  of  moral  dis- 
tinctions? Why  is  wrong  wrong,  and  right  right? 
Explain  the  virtues  and  duties,  e.g.,  benevolence, 
charity,  justice,  veracity,  etc.,  and  their  opposites. 
Is  there  a  standard  or  criterion  or  ideal  by  which 
conduct  is  judged,  and  what  is  it  ?  Can  we  justify 
this  standard  or  ideal,  or  is  it  something  that  cannot 
or  need  not  be  justified  ?  Given  a  certain  ideal  or 

1  See,  for  example,  Ladd's  treatment  of  the  ethical  sentiments  in 
his  Psychology,  Descriptive  and  Explanatory,  and  Sully's  account 
of  the  ethical  or  moral  sentiments  in  the  second  volume  of  his 
Human  Mind,  or,  in  fact,  any  modern  work  on  psychology. 


THE  NATURE  AND  METHODS  OF  ETHICS      15 

standard,  what  conduct  is  moral,  what  immoral  ? 
Does  humanity  remain  true  to  the  ideal  ?  What  is 
the  highest  good  for  man,  the  end  of  life  ?  Can  we 
specify  it  scientifically,  or  is  it  impossible  to  do  so? 

Such  are  some  of  the  questions  which  our  science 
asks  and  seeks  to  answer.  Should  it  be  said  that 
these  also  are  problems  for  psychology  to  solve,  we 
should  raise  no  serious  objection.  The  important 
thing  is  that  the  phenomena  in  question  be  examined 
and  explained ;  whether  by  psychology  or  a  special 
science  does  not  matter.  Ethical  facts  are,  to  a 
great  extent,  mental  processes,  and  as  such  objects 
of  psychological  study.  But  the  same  may  truth- 
fully be  said  of  the  data  of  aesthetics.  A  science 
must  thoroughly  explain  its  facts,  and,  strictly 
speaking,  psychology  would  have  to  explain  ethical 
and  aesthetical  facts.  But  sciences  divide  their 
labor,  and  it  is  in  keeping  with  the  practices  of 
modern  scientific  research  that  psychology  should 
hand  over  to  a  special  discipline  the  consideration  of 
a  particular  set  of  its  facts. 

Besides,  there  are  certain  questions,  as  we  have 
just  seen,  which  are  not  usually  considered  by  the 
psychologist.  The  psychologist  studies  states  of  con- 
sciousness as  such ;  he  regards  his  work  as  completed 
when  he  has  analyzed  psychical  phenomena  and  has 
referred  them  to  their  necessary  psychical,  or,  if  he 
be  physiologically  inclined,  psychophysical  antece- 
dents. He  does  not,  as  a  rule,  inquire  into  the 
principles  underlying  conduct;  he  does  not  concern 


16  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

himself  with  the  question,  What  is  the  end  of  life, 
or  what  is  the  standard  or  criterion  by  which  acts 
are  measured  ?  But  he  could  do  so  and  still  remain 
within  the  confines  of  his  proper  field  of  study. 
Such  an  investigation  would  surely  assist  him  in 
better  understanding  the  workings  of  the  human 
mind,  just  as  a  knowledge  of  physics  and  chemistry 
would  enable  the  physiologist  better  to  understand 
the  subject-matter  of  his  science.1 

9.  Ethics  and  Politics.  —  The  relation  which  eth- 
ics bears  to  the  science  of  politics  largely  depends 
upon  our  conception  of  the  nature  and  function  of 
these  two  sciences.  If  we  assume  with  Plato  that 
ethics  is  the  science  of  the  highest  good,  and  that 
the  object  of  the  State  is  to  realize  that  end,  then 
politics  depends  upon  ethics,  for  we  cannot  tell  what 
the  State  ought  to  do  until  we  know  what  the  high- 
est good  is.  But  if  the  State  is  the  highest  good, 
then  conduct  has  value  only  in  so  far  as  it  subserves 
the  interests  of  the  State,  and  ethics  is  simply  a 
branch  of,  or  another  name  for,  politics,  as  Aristotle 
declares. 

But  let  us  say,  ethics  is  the  science  of  right  and 
wrong  ;  it  discovers  the  principles  of  conduct,  shows 
the  ground  of  moral  distinctions.  Politics  has  to  do 


1  With  the  view  advanced  above  Miinsterberg,  Der  Ursprung 
der  Sittlichkeit,  and  Simmel,  Einleitung  in  die  Horalwissenschaft, 
agree.  See  also  Sully,  The  Human  Mind,  Appendix  L.  Mackenzie, 
A  Manual  of  Ethics,  especially  Appendix  B,  opposes  the  concep- 
tion. 


THE  NATURE  AND  METHODS  OF  ETHICS      17 

with  the  nature,  origin,  and  development  of  the 
State  ;  it  studies  the  different  forms  in  which  the 
State  appears  and  has  appeared,  and  strives  to  define 
the  functions  which  it  performs.  It  deals,  let  us 
say,  with  the  principles  of  organized  society.  Now 
if  ethics  should  discover  that  morality  realizes  a  cer- 
tain end  or  aim,  and  that  the  fact  that  it  realizes 
such  an  end  explains  its  existence,  and  if  politics 
should  find  that  the  State  realizes  the  same  end,  then 
there  would  evidently  be  a  close  connection  between 
the  two.  Should  we  be  fortunate  enough  to  dis- 
cover a  principle  or  standard  of  morals,  we  should 
be  able  to  say,  in  a  general  way,  how  a  man  ought 
to  act  in  order  to  realize  the  ideal ;  we  should  be 
able  to  construct  a  moral  code.  And  should  we  be 
able  to  specify  the  end  or  ideal  aimed  at  by  the 
State,  we  could  compare  the  two  ends  or  purposes. 
Should  they  be  the  same,  then  politics  might  be 
called  a  branch  of  ethics  or  vice,  versa.  Ethics  would 
lay  down  the  general  rules  of  conduct ;  it  would  tell 
us  how  to  act  as  individuals.  Politics  would  tell 
the  State  how  to  act ;  it  would  be  a  guide  to  the 
conduct  of  man  in  organized  society.1 

10.  Ethics  and  Metaphysics.  —  A  science,  as  we 
have  seen,  analyzes,  classifies,  and  explains  a  particu- 
lar set  of  phenomena.  Strictly  speaking,  no  fact  is 
explained  until  we  know  all  about  it,  until  we  un- 
derstand its  relation  to  the  entire  universe.  To 

1  See  Sidgwick,  Methods  of  Ethics,  Bk.  I,  chap,  ii ;  Mackenzie, 
§  6  ;  Muirhead,  Elements  of  Ethics,  pp.  34  ff. 


18  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

know  one  thing  well  means  to  know  everything,  as 
we  have  already  pointed  out.1  An  ideal  science 
would  therefore  be  able  to  account  for  every  single 
fact  within  its  domain  and  coordinate  it  with  the 
rest  of  reality.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  however,  this 
ideal  is  not  realized.  The  different  sciences  do  not 
even  aim  at  so  high  a  goal.  They  do  not  go  very  far 
in  their  search  for  the  causes  of  things,  nor  do  they 
attempt  to  understand  the  world  as  a  whole.  When 
a  science  has  referred  an  event  to  an  antecedent, 
and  this  perhaps  to  another  antecedent  or  group  of 
antecedents,  it  is  apt  to  regard  its  work  as  done. 
The  physicist  as  such,  for  example,  studies  the  prop- 
erties of  matter,  the  laws  of  motion.  He  does  not 
concern  himself  with  the  question  regarding  the 
ultimate  nature  and  origin  of  these  data,  nor  does  he 
seek  to  correlate  them  with  other  forms  of  reality, 
say  with  the  phenomena  of  mind.  Nay,  the  tempta- 
tion is  strong  to  regard  his  facts  as  the  ultimate  and 
most  important  facts,  and  to  subordinate  all  others 
to  them.  The  biologist  studies  the  different  forms 
of  living  matter  which  occur  upon  our  earth  ;  he 
investigates  the  structure  and  function  of  organisms 
and  compares  them  with  each  other.  It  is  true  that 
the  tendency  toward  unification  is  stronger  in  bi- 
ology than  in  many  other  sciences,  and  that  attempts 
have  been  made  to  derive  the  more  complex  forms 
of  life  from  simple  beginnings  ;  but  in  so  far  as  this 
is  the  case,  biology  more  nearly  realizes  the  ideal 
1  See  §  7  of  this  chapter. 


THE  NATURE  AND  METHODS  OF  ETHICS      19 

of  science  than  the  other  sciences.  Still,  there  are 
final  problems  which  the  biologist  as  such  does  not 
undertake  to  solve.  The  psychologist,  again,  ana- 
lyzes and  explains  states  of  consciousness  ;  he  splits 
up  the  mind  into  its  elements  and  refers  them  to 
their  physical  and  psychical  antecedents.  But  the 
questions,  What  is  the  ultimate  nature  and  origin 
of  consciousness  or  soul  ?  How  is  such  a  thing  as  mind 
possible  at  all?  Whence  comes  it  and  whither  does  it 
go?  What  is  its  relation  to  matter  and  motion  ?  are 
left  unanswered.1 

Every  science,  then,  confines  itself  to  a  particular 
group  of  phenomena  and  seeks  to  explain  these  in 
terms  of  each  other.2  But  certain  ultimate  ques- 
tions suggest  themselves,  which,  though  hard  to  an- 
swer, cannot  be  brushed  aside.  These  questions  are 
handed  over  to  philosophy  or  metaphysics  for  settle- 
ment. Philosophy  simply  means,  as  James  puts  it, 
"an  unusually  obstinate  attempt  to  think  clearly 
and  consistently."  To  philosophize  means  to  go  to 
the  very  bottom  of  things,  to  think  a  problem  out  to 
the  bitter  end,  to  account  for  everything,  to  under- 
stand everything.  In  strictness,  every  science 
should  be  philosophical,  it  should  not  stop  until  all 
questions  have  been  answered.  And  as  a  matter  of 
fact,  there  are  philosophical  scientists  in  every 

1  It  cannot  be  denied,  of  course,  that  every  science  makes  cer- 
tain metaphysical  assumptions,  that  it  practically  starts  out  with 
the  metaphysics  of  common  sense. 

2  In  so  far  as  it  does  this,  we  might  call  it  empirical,  as  distin- 
guished from  rational  or  metaphysical. 


20  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

sphere  of  science,  men  who  like  Wilhelm  von 
Humboldt,  Darwin,  Huxley,  and  Helmholtz,  cross 
the  narrow  confines  of  the  particular  fields  in  which 
they  happen  to  be  working,  and  look  at  the  universe 
as  a  whole. 

Now  the  remarks  which  apply  to  the  other  sci- 
ences likewise  apply  to  ethics.  Ethics  investigates 
a  particular  branch  of  facts  and  has  to  explain  them. 
An  ideal  science  of  ethics  will  not  stop  until  it 
thoroughly  understands  the  phenomena  with  which 
it  deals,  and  this,  as  we  have  seen,  is  not  possible 
without  universal  knowledge.  To  realize  its  ideal, 
ethics  must  become  philosophical,  must  be  philos- 
ophy. In  this  respect,  however,  we  repeat,  it  in  no 
wise  differs  from  the  other  sciences. 

We  shall  not,  however,  in  this  book,  attempt  to  do 
more  than  the  average  science  does  with  its  subject- 
matter.  We  shall  be  satisfied  if  we  succeed  in  find- 
ing the  general  principles  underlying  morality. 
We  must  leave  it  to  the  philosophers  to  solve  the 
ultimate  problems  of  ethics  and  to  insert  the  facts  of 
morality  into  the  universal  system  of  things.1 

11.  The  Methods  of  Ethics.  —  Let  us  next  con- 
sider the  methods  of  ethics.  The  method  to  be 
pursued  by  our  science  does  not,  generally  speak- 
ing, differ  from  that  followed  by  other  sciences. 
We  must  examine  moral  phenomena  with  the  same 

1  For  the  relation  of  philosophy  to  the  sciences,  see  Paulsen, 
Introduction  to  Philosophy,  pp.  15  ff.  ;  Kulpe,  Introduction  to 
Philosophy  ;  Mtinsterberg,  Der  Ursprung  der  Sittlichkeit,  1  ff . 


THE  MATURE  AND  METHODS  OF  ETHICS      21 

care  practised  in  other  fields  of  research.  We 
must  observe  and  collect  moral  facts  wherever  we 
can.  We  must  investigate  the  modes  of  conduct 
of  different  races,  nations,  classes,  individuals,  and 
periods  of  time.  We  must  watch  the  behavior  of 
the  civilized  and  uncivilized,  adults  and  children, 
men  and  women  ;  we  must  go  as  far  back  to  the 
beginnings  of  history  as  we  can ;  we  must  study 
the  mythology,  theology,  philosophy,  literature,  and 
art  of  the  different  peoples,  in  order  to  discover 
what  they  considered  right  and  wrong  ;  we  must 
look  at  their  language,  "the  fossilized  spiritual  life 
of  mankind,"  at  their  systems  of  law,  at  their  polit- 
ical, social,  and  economic  conditions,  which  are  to 
a  large  extent  an  embodiment  of  their  morality. 
What  a  wealth  of  moral  facts  we  find  in  the  works 
of  Homer,  Hesiod,  and  the  Greek  tragedians,  in 
Shakespeare,  Byron,  and  Goethe  !  What  an  insight 
we  gain  into  the  moral  feelings  of  the  Middle  Ages 
from  the  contemplation  of  their  great  works  of  art ; 
and  how  much  the  social  conditions  of  our  own 
times  tell  us  of  the  moral  ideals  of  the  age  ! 

Facts,  then,  must  be  gathered  in  our  science,  both 
external  and  internal  facts.  We  must  look  out- 
ward and  inward.  But  we  must  also  study  and 
seek  to  interpret  these  facts  ;  we  must  reflect  and 
speculate  upon  them.  No  science  can  live  without 
speculation.  You  may  gather  facts  by  the  thou- 
sands and  be  no  better  off  than  before  ;  they  are 
merely  the  raw  material  upon  which  you  must  work, 


22  INTRODUCTION-  TO  ETHICS 

which  you  must  form  into  a  system.  We  must  pass 
from  facts  to  principles.  The  mere  observance  of 
facts  will  lead  to  nothing.  Only  a  highly  synthetic, 
only  an  imaginative  mind,  one  that  can  peer  through 
the  outward  shell  into  the  very  heart  of  nature,  is 
capable  of  advancing  science. 

12.  Theoretical  Ethics  and  Practical  Ethics.  — We 
may  distinguish  between  theoretical  ethics  and  prac- 
tical ethics.  A  science  or  theory,  as  has  been  said, 
teaches  us  to  know,  and  an  art  to  do.1  In  studying 
a  subject  theoretically  or  scientifically  in  this  sense, 
we  seek  to  discover  the  principles  or  laws  governing 
our  phenomena.  Anatomy  and  physiology  are  the- 
ories in  so  far  as  they  examine  the  general  structure 
and  functions  of  organisms.  After  we  have  found 
the  principles  or  laws,  we  apply  them,  we  put  them 
into  practice,  we  lay  down  certain  rules  which  must 
be  obeyed  in  order  that  we  may  reach  certain  ends. 
The  science  or  theory  of  physiology  teaches  us  how 
the  body  functions,  what  causes  it  to  function  in 
this  way,  what  are  the  conditions  essential  to  its 
functioning  so.  The  art  or  practice  of  hygiene 
frames  rules  based  upon  these  principles,  the  observ- 
ance of  which  is  essential  to  health.  The  science 
of  psychology  tells  us  what  are  the  conditions  or 
causes  of  certain  mental  phenomena ;  pedagogy 
applies  the  truths  discovered  by  the  psychologist  in 
practice.  Every  art  bases  itself  upon  a  theory  ;  and 
the  more  developed  the  art  the  more  developed,  as 
1  See  Sully,  Teacher's  Handbook  of  Psychology,  chap.  i. 


THE  NATURE  AND  METHODS  OF  ETHICS   23 

a  rule,  the  theory  upon  which  it  rests.  And  the 
final  end  or  purpose  of  every  science  or  theory  is  to 
be  of  some  practical  use.1 

Now  there  is  also  a  science  or  theory  of  ethics  and 
an  art  of  ethics.  The  science  discovers  the  princi- 
ples, the  art  applies  them.  The  science  teaches  us 
what  is  done,  the  art  what  ought  to  be  done.  Practi- 
cal ethics  is  the  application  of  theoretical  ethics.2 

13.  The  Value  of  Ethics.  —  In  conclusion,  let  us 
consider  the  value  of  ethics  for  the  student.  Why 
should  we  study  ethics?  Well,  why  study  any- 
thing ?  Morality  is  a  fact,  and  as  such  deserves  to 
be  studied.  Man  is  a  reflective  being,  and,  there- 
fore, bound  to  take  cognizance  of  everything  in  the 
universe.  His  own  conduct  is  surely  important  and 
interesting  enough  to  merit  the  attention  which  is 
given  to  the  study  of  physical  occurrences.  Man 


1  See  Drobiscli,  Logik,  p.  165. 

2  For  views  similar  to  the  above,  see  the  references  to  Miinster- 
berg,  Simmel,  Paulsen,  and  Stephen,  mentioned  at  the  beginning 
of  this  chapter.      See  also  Ziegler,  Sittliches  Sein  und  sittliches 
Werden.     Many  writers,  following  Wundt  (Ethik,  Part  I,  Intro- 
duction), compare  ethics  to  logic,  and  call  it  a  normative  science 
(Normwissenschaf  t) .    According  to  them,  logic  gives  us  the  laws  of 
correct  thinking,  the  norms  or  rules  which  must  be  observed  in  order 
to  reach  truth.     It  also  measures  our  thinking  by  these  rules  or 
norms,  and  judges  its  value  accordingly.     Ethics  tells  us  how 
we  ought  to  act  in  order  to  act  ethically,  or  morally  ;  it  lays  down 
norms,  or  rules  of  conduct,  which  the  agent  must  obey  in  order  to 
insure  the  morality  of  his  conduct.     See  Hyslop,  Muirhead,  Mac- 
kenzie.    In  this  sense,  however,  it  seems  to  me,  every  science 
that  can  be  applied  in  practice  is  normative.  —  Cf .  Spencer,  Social 
Statics,  p.  458. 


24  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

has  conquered  the  forces  of  nature  because  he  has 
thought  about  them,  because  he  has  subjected  them 
to  critical  analysis.  It  is  to  be  supposed  that  the 
examination  of  moral  forces  will  be  equally  fruitful. 
The  discovery  of  an  ethical  criterion  will  surely 
assist  us  in  answering  troublesome  ethical  questions. 
We  do  not  always  know  what  is  right  and  what  is 
wrong ;  we  must  reflect  upon  our  conduct,  we  need 
a  standard  or  ideal  with  which  to  measure  it.  There 
can  be  no  great  progress  in  morals  without  reflection. 
Men  are  often  ignorant  of  the  right ;  they  have  to 
reason  it  out,  they  need  a  firm  foundation  on  which 
to  base  it.  Or  they  often  become  sceptical  with 
regard  to  morals  ;  they  observe  a  great  divergence 
in  modes  of  conduct,  and  are  apt  to  regard  morality 
as  a  collection  of  arbitrary  rules  having  no  real  bind- 
ing force.  A  closer  study  of  the  moral  world  will 
easily  show  the  falseness  of  this  view,  and  establish 
ethical  truths  upon  a  solid  basis. 

I  do  not,  of  course,  wish  to  be  understood  as 
claiming  that  morality  is  impossible  without  reflec- 
tion upon  morality,  or  a  science  of  ethics.  This 
would  be  like  saying  that  there  can  be  no  seeing 
without  a  science  of  vision.  Before  there  can  be  a 
science  of  optics  men  must  possess  the  power  of 
sight ;  before  there  can  be  a  science  of  ethics  men 
must  act.  But  just  as  the  science  of  optics  greatly 
assists  us  in  our  attempts  to  see  things,  so  the 
science  of  ethics  is  an  aid  to  action. 

It  is  held  by  some,  however,  that  reflection  upon 


THE  NATURE  AND  METHODS  OF  ETHICS      25 

moral  matters  is  apt  to  weaken  a  person's  power  of 
action,  and  that  a  study  of  ethics  is,  therefore, 
dangerous  to  morality.  Even  if  this  were  so,  it 
could  not  hinder  men  from  theorizing  on  the  prin- 
ciples of  conduct.  But  the  view  is  false.  A  careful 
and  thorough  examination  of  the  field  of  morals  will, 
it  seems  to  me,  inspire  us  with  a  greater  respect  for 
morality,  and  strengthen  our  impulses  toward  the 
good.  Of  course,  hasty  and  superficial  judgments 
upon  ethical  facts  are,  like  all  half-truths,  dangerous. 
But  the  best  way  to  combat  them  is  to  prove  their 
falseness  ;  the  best  cure  for  a  half-truth  is  always  a 
whole  truth. 


CHAPTER  II 

THEORIES  OF  CONSCIENCE  1 

1.  Introduction.  —  We  pronounce  moral  judgments 
upon  ourselves  as  well  as  upon  others ;  we  distin- 

1  For  a  history  of  ethical  theories,  see,  besides  the  Histories  of 
Philosophy :  Kostlin,  Die  Ethik  des  classischen  Altertums ;  Lut- 
hardt,  Die  antike  Ethik;  Ziegler,  Die  Ethik  der  Griechen  und 
Homer ;  Gass,  Geschichte  der  christlichen  Ethik ;  Gass,  Die  Lehre 
vom  Gewissen ;  Ziegler,  Geschichte  der  christlichen  Ethik;  Lut- 
hardt,  Geschichte  der  christlichen  Ethik;  Jodl,  Geschichte  der 
Ethik  in  der  neueren  Philosophic;  Gizycki,  Die  Ethik  David 
Hume's;  Whewell,  History  of  Moral  Philosophy;  J.  H.  Fichte, 
System  der  Ethik;  Vorlander,  Geschichte  der  philosophischen 
Moral,  Rechts-  und  Staatslehre ;  Mackintosh,  On  the  Progress 
of  Ethical  Philosophy  during  the  Seventeenth  and  Eighteenth 
Centuries;  Stephen,  English  Thought  of  the  Eighteenth  Century ; 
Guyau,  La  morale  anglaise  contemporaine ;  Fouille'e,  Critique  des 
systemes  de  morale  contemporains ;  Williams,  A  Review  of  Evo- 
lutional Ethics ;  Sidgwick,  Outline  of  a  History  of  Ethics;  Janet, 
Histoire  de  la  philosophic  morale  et  politique  ;  Paulsen,  A  System 
of  Ethics,  pp.  33-215  ;  Wundt,  Ethics,  Vol.  II ;  J.  Seth,  A  Study 
of  Ethical  Principles,  pp.  77-249 ;  Watson,  Hedonistic  Theories 
from  Aristippus  to  Spencer;  Hyslop,  Elements  of  Ethics,  pp. 
18-89 ;  Martineau,  Types  of  Ethical  Theory ;  Calderwood,  Hand- 
book of  Moral  Philosophy,  16th  edition,  pp.  318  ff. ;  Eucken, 
Die  Lebensanschauungen  der  grossen  Denker.  For  a  history 
of  ethical  conceptions,  see  also  Schmidt,  Die  Ethik  der  alien  Grie- 
chen; Lecky,  History  of  European  Morals  from  Augustus  to  Char- 
lemagne; Friedlander,  Die  Sittengeschichte  Eoms ;  Keim,  Rom 
und  das  Christentum.  Sutherland's  Origin  and  Growth  of  the 
Moral  Instinct  contains  much  valuable  material.  Consult  also  the 
bibliographies  in  my  translation  of  Paulsen's  Ethics.  For  bibliog- 


THEORIES  OF  CONSCIENCE  27 

guish  between  Tightness  and  wrongness  in  thoughts, 
feelings,  volitions,  acts,  institutions,  and  so  forth. 
We  insist  upon  the  performance  of  certain  modes  of 
conduct  and  the  avoidance  of  others ;  we  command 
categorically,  Thou  shalt,  and  thou  shalt  not.  We 
regard  ourselves  and  our  fellows  as  morally  bound 
or  obliged  to  do  certain  things,  and  to  refrain  from 
others.  The  breach  of  rules  which  we  feel  ought 
to  be  obeyed  is  condemned  by  us  even  when  we 
ourselves  are  the  offenders. 

Let  us  embrace  all  the"se  facts  under  a  general 
formula,  and  say  that  man  pronounces  moral  judg- 
ments, or  distinguishes  between  right  and  wrong; 
man  has  a  moral  consciousness  or  a  conscience.  The 
question  naturally  arises,  How  is  this  fact  to  be 
explained?  We  cannot  solve  this  problem  until 
we  have  carefully  analyzed  the  phenomenon  itself 
which  provoked  it.  Before  attempting  that,  how- 
ever, let  us  consider  some  answers  which  have  already 
been  made  to  the  question. 

2.  The  Mythical  View.  —  The  naive  thinker  tries 
to  account  for  things  in  a  peculiar  manner.  He 
regards  natural  phenomena  as  the  expression  of 
hidden,  mysterious  forces.  He  collects  a  number 
of  similar  occurrences  and  conceives  them  as  the 

raphy  of  the  History  of  Philosophy,  see  my  translation  of  Weber's 
History  of  Philosophy,  notes  in  §  3.  For  special  bibliographies 
see  the  notes  on  particular  philosophers  in  Weber  and  Paulsen. 
The  beginner  will  find  the  works  of  Paulsen,  Seth,  Wundt,  Sidg- 
wick,  and  Hyslop  most  helpful  to  him  in  his  study  of  the  history  of 
ethics  and  ethical  conceptions. 


28  INTRODUCTION'  TO  ETHICS 

manifestation  of  some  supernatural  principle.  Thus 
rain  and  thunder  are  produced  by  rain  and  thunder 
gods,  disease  by  a  god  of  disease.  The  same  ten- 
dency impels  him  to  explain  the  fact  of  moral 
consciousness  by  referring  it  to  supernatural  powers. 
He  notices  a  conflict  in  himself  between  two  ten- 
dencies, the  one  urging  him  in  the  direction  of  the 
good,  the  other  in  the  direction  of  the  evil.  Behind 
each  he  places  an  entity,  a  principle,  of  which  the 
different  occurrences  are  the  expressions.  Con- 
science, he  says,  is  the  voice  of  God  in  the  human 
soul ;  it  is  God  directly  speaking  to  us;  it  is  some- 
thing distinct  from  the  person,  something  from  with- 
out that  tells  him  which  way  to  go.  Greek  mythology 
personifies  the  pangs  of  conscience  in  the  form  of  the 
Erinyes  or  Furies,  who  pursue  the  evil-doer  as  long 
as  he  lives ;  and  even  Socrates  speaks  of  the  daemon 
within  him  who  warns  him  against  certain  lines  of 
conduct  and  urges  him  in  the  direction  of  the  good.1 
And  just  as  the  naive  consciousness  places  an  entity 
behind  the  inner  tendency  toward  the  right,  so  it 
makes  an  entity  of  the  inner  tendency  toward  the 
evil.  The  latter  is  called  the  principle  of  evil  or 
the  devil,  who  tempts  man  to  do  wrong. 

3.  The  Rationalistic  Intuitionists.  —  The  mytho- 
logical view,  as  we  might  call  it,  is  superseded  by 
the  metaphysical  view,  which  appears  in  many 
forms,  often  in  combination  with  the  preceding. 

1  See  Schmidt,  Ethik  der  Griechen ;  Gass,  Die  Lehre  vom  G&> 
wissen.  See  also  Bender,  Mythologie  und  Metaphysik. 


THEORIES  OF  CONSCIENCE  29 

Let  us  see  how  it  answers  our  question.  Why  do 
we  make  moral  distinctions?  Because  we  have  the 
power  of  making  such  judgments.  Man  possesses 
a  natural  faculty,  a  peculiar  moral  endowment,  a 
conscience,  which  immediately  enables  him  to  dis- 
tinguish between  right  and  wrong.  Its  deliverances 
are  absolutely  certain  and  necessary,  as  self-evident 
as  the  truth  that  twice  two  is  four,  as  immediate 
and  eternal  as  the  axioms  of  geometry.  You  cannot 
and  need  not  prove  that  twice  two  is  four,  you  can- 
not and  need  not  prove  that  stealing  is  wrong.  It 
is  as  absurd  to  doubt  the  one  fact  as  it  is  to  doubt 
the  other.  And  whence  did  man  obtain  this  won- 
derful power,  you  ask  ?  Well,  it  is  an  inborn  fac- 
ulty, which  G.od  has  given  us, 

(1)  Let  us  consider  a  few  representatives  of  this 
view,1  and  note  how  it  is  modified  in  the  course  of 
time.  And,  first,  let  us  turn  to  the  early  Christian 
thinkers.2  "How,"  Chrysostom3  asks  the  heathen,4 
"  did  your  lawgivers  happen  to  give  so  many  laws  on 
murder,  marriage,  wills,  etc.  ?  The  later  ones  have 
perhaps  been  taught  by  their  predecessors,  but  how 
did  these  learn  of  them  ?  How  else  than  through  con- 
science, the  law  which  God  originally  implanted  in  hu- 
man nature  ?  "  "  There  is  in  our  souls,"  says  Pelagius,5 


1  In  the  following  expositions  I  have  tried,  as  far  as  possible,  to 
state  the  different  authors'  views  in  their  own  language. 

2  See  Gass,  Die  Lehre  vom  G-ewissen. 

3  Died  407.  4  Adv.  pop.  Antioch.,  Homil.  12. 
5  A  contemporary  of  St.  Augustine. 


30  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

"a  certain  natural  holiness,  as  it  were,  which  pre- 
sides over  the  citadel  of  the  mind,  a  judgment  of 
good  and  evil."1  Augustine2  declares  that  there 
are  "  in  the  natural  faculty  of  judgment  certain  rules 
and  seeds  of  virtue,  which  ,are  both  true  and  incom- 
municable." 

But,  it  might  be  asked,  if  there  is  such  an  absolute 
faculty,  if  the  dictates  of  this  conscience  or  the 
moral  truths  engraven  on  the  mind  are  so  certain 
and  universal,  how  comes  it  that  so  many  mistakes 
are  made,  and  so  many  differences  exist  in  action  ? 
In  obeying  the  so-called  inner  voice  the  individual 
may  still  fall  into  error.  To  escape  this  troublesome 
problem  the  Schoolmen  modified  the  view  just  set 
forth  in  an  ingenious  way.  I  may  pronounce  judg- 
ment that  a  particular  act  is  right  or  wrong.  The 
faculty  which  enables  me  to  do  this  is  the  conscience 
(conscientia,  o-vveiSijo-is*).  The  judgment  may  be 
false,  for  the  particular  act  which  it  pronounces  to 
be  right  or  wrong  may  be  the  opposite.  But  I  have 
another  faculty,  the  faculty  which  tells  me  in  general 
that  all  wrong  must  be  avoided,  that  evil  must  not 
be  done.  This  faculty,  called  the  synteresis  or  syn- 
deresis  (crwSejpeo-i?),3  cannot  err,  it  is  infallible,  inex- 
tinguishable. It  is  the  spark  of  reason  or  truth 
which  burns  even  in  the  souls  of  the  damned. 
When  we  come  to  apply  this  truth  to  particular 

1  Epist.  ad  Demetr.,  chap,  iv,  p.  25.  2  354-430. 

3  The  spelling  and  derivation  of  the  word  are  in  dispute.  See 
Archiv  f.  G.  d.  Ph.,  Vol.  X,  number  4. 


THEORIES  OF  CONSCIENCE  31 

cases  and  seek  to  discover  what  particular  deeds 
should  be  avoided,  we  exercise  the  conscience  and 
may  err.  To  quote  from  Bonaventura  : 1  "  For  God 
has  endowed  us  with  a  twofold  righteousness,  one 
for  judging  correctly,  and  this  is  the  righteousness 
of  conscience,  and  one  for  willing  correctly,  and  that 
is  the  righteousness  of  the  synderesis,  whose  func- 
tion it  is  to  warn  against  (remurmurare)  the  evil 
and  to  prompt  to  goodness."2  Antoninus  of  Flor- 
ence3 regards  the  synderesis  as  a  natural  habit 
or  endowment,  a  natural  light,  which  tends  to  keep 
man  from  doing  wrong  by  warning  him  against 
sin  and  inclining  him  to  the  good.4  It  is  a  simple 
principle,  dealing  with  general  laws,  sinless  and  in- 
extinguishable, while  the  conscience  is  a  faculty  or 
an  activity  which  concerns  itself  with  the  particular 
and  is,  therefore,  subject  to  error  and  illusion. 
"  The  human  mind  makes  a  certain  syllogism,  as  it 
were,  for  which-  the  synderesis  furnishes  the  major 
premise  :  All  evil  is  to  be  avoided.  But  a  superior 
reason  assumes  the  minor  premise  of  this  syllogism, 
saying,  Adultery  is  an  evil  because  it  is  prohibited 
by  God,  while  an  inferior  reason  says,  Adultery  is 

1 1221-1274.     Breviloquium,  Part  II,  chap.  ii. 

2  Duplicem  enim  indidit  (Deus)  rectitudinem  ipsi  naturae,  vide- 
licet unam  ad  recte  judicandum,  et  hssc  est  rectitudo  conscientise  ; 
aliam,  ad  recte  volendum,  et  hsec  est  rectitudo  synderesis,  cujus 
est  remurmurare  contra  malum  et  stimulare  ad  bonum. 

3 1389-1459. 

*  Synderesis  est  quidam  connaturalis  habitus  sive  connaturale 
lumen,  cujus  actus  vel  officiuin  est,  hominem  retrahere  a  malo 
murmurando  contra  peccatum  et  inclinare  ad  bonum. 


32  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

an  evil  because  it  is  unjust,  or  because  it  is  dis- 
honest. But  conscience  draws  the  conclusion  from 
the  above  premises :  Therefore  adultery  is  to  be 
avoided."1 

(2)  We  find  similar  views  expressed  by  modern 
thinkers.  Ralph  Cudworth2  regards  knowledge  as 
the  product  of  an  independent  activity  of  the  soul, 
or  reason.  "  The  intellection  consists  in  the  appli- 
cation of  a  given  pattern  thought,  a  ready-made 
category,  to  the  phenomena  and  objects  presented 
by  experience.  These  categories  or  notions  are 
a  priori ;  they  are  the  constant  reflections  of  the 
Universal  Reason,  of  God's  mind."  But  they  are 
not  merely  objects  and  products  of  the  intellect, 
they  form  the  nature  or  essence  of  things.  All  men 
have  the  same  fundamental  ideas.  What  is  clearly 
and  distinctly  perceived  is  true.  Among  the  truths 
which  reason  reveals  to  us  are  moral  truths,  which, 
like  mathematical  propositions,  are  absolute  and 
eternal.  But  the  soul  is  not  a  mere  passive  and 
receptive  thing  which  has  no  innate  active  principles 
of  its  own.  Good  and  evil,  intuitive  intellectual 

1  Fit  in  animo  vel  in  mente  hominis  quasi  quidam  syllogismus, 
cujus  majorem  prsemittit   synderesis  dicens,   onme   malum  esse 
vitandum.     Minorem  vero  hujus  syllogismi  assumit  ratio  superior, 
dicens  adulterium  esse  malum,  quia  prohibitum  est  a  Deo,  ratio 
vero  inferior  dicit,  adulterium  esse  malum,  quia  vel  est  injustum 
vel  quia  est  inhonestuin.     Conscientia  vero  infert  conclusionem 
dicens  et  concludens  ex  supradictis,  ergo  adulterium  est  vitandum. 

2  1617-1688.     The  title  of  Cudworth's  book  is  characteristic 
of  his  standpoint :    Treatise  concerning  Eternal  and  Immutable 
Morality.  —Selections  in  Selby-Bigge's  British  Moralists,  Vol.  IL 


THEORIES  OF  CONSCIENCE  33 

categories,  convey  more  than  knowledge,  and  are 
attended  by  an  authority  pleading  with  the  will  to 
move  in  a  determinate  direction.  Moreover,  the 
truths  of  mathematics  and  morals  are  as  binding  on 
God  as  they  are  on  us ;  he  must  think  and  act  like 
all  rational  beings.1 

(3)  Samuel  Clarke 2  teaches  that  there  are  eternal 
and  necessary  differences  and  relations  of  things. 
The  human  differences  are  as  obvious  as  the  various 
sizes  of  physical  objects,  the  fitness  of  actions  and 
characters  as  obvious  as  the  propositions  of  numbers 
and  geometrical  figures.  Hence  the  moral  truths, 
like  the  mathematical  truths,  belong  to  the  sphere 
of  eternal  relations.  The  reason,  divine  and  human, 
perceives  these .  eternal  differences  and  relations  as 
they  are.  And  just  as  no  one  can  refuse  assent  to 
a  correct  mathematical  proof,  no  one  who  under- 
stands the  subject  can  refuse  assent  to  moral  propo- 
sitions. "  So  far  as  men  are  conscious  of  what  is 
right  and  wrong,  so  far  they  are  under  obligation 
to  act  accordingly."3  It  is  contrary  to  reason,  con- 
trary to  the  eternal  order  of  nature,  to  do  wrong. 
Indeed,  it  is  as  absurd  as  to  try  to  make  darkness 
out  of  light,  sweet  out  of  bitter.  To  deny  that  I 
should  do  for  another  what  he  in  the  like  case 

1  For  Cudworth,  see  especially  Martineau,  Types,  Vol.  II,  Bk. 
II;  Jodl,  Geschichte  der  Ethik  ;  Sidgwick,  History  of  Ethics. 

2  1675-1729.     Discourse  concerning  the  Unalterable  Obligations 
of  Natural  Religion.  —  Selections  from  Clarke's  ethical  writings  in 
Selby-Bigge's  British  Moralists,  Vol.  II. 

8  Op.,  cit.,  pp.  184  ff. 


34  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

should  do  for  me,  and  to  deny  it,  "  either  in  word  or 
in  action,"  uis  as  if  a  man  should  contend  that, 
though  two  and  three  are  equal  to  five,  yet  five 
are  not  equal  to  two  and  three."  God  himself 
necessarily  conforms  his  will  to  the  laws  of  morals ; 
his  activity  must  be  in  accord  with  eternal  right.1 

(4)  Henry  Calderwood2  belongs  to  the  same 
school.  We  have,  he  says,  an  intuitive  knowledge  of 
the  right  and  wrong.  This  knowledge  is  immediate, 
and  its  source  is  within  the  mind  itself.  "  By  direct 
insight  a  law  is  visible  to  us  which  cannot  be  inferred, 
but  which  regulates  all  inferences  in  morals  within 
the  area  to  which  the  law  applies. "  The  recognition  of 
a  general  truth  or  principle  of  conduct  is  perception 
or  intuition  of  the  highest  order.  The  power  to 
recognize  self-evident  truth  has  been  named  Reason. 
Conscience,  then,  is  that  power  by  which  moral  law 
is  immediately  recognized,  "  it  is  reason  discovering 
universal  truth  having  the  authority  of  sovereign 
moral  law,  and  affording  the  basis  for  personal  obli- 
gation." It  is  a  cognitive  or  intellectual  power,  not 
a  form  of  feeling,  nor  a  combination  of  feelings ; 
and  it  is  vested  with  sovereign  practical  authority. 
This  authority  is  found  in  the  character  of  the  truth 
which  conscience  reveals,  not  in  the  nature  of  the 
faculty  itself.  "This  faculty  is  a  power  of  sight, 
making  a  perception  of  self-evident  truth  possible  to 

1  See    references    under    Cud  worth ;    also    Stephen,    op.   cit., 
Vol.  II. 

2  1831-1897.    Handbook  of  Moral  Philosophy. 


THEORIES   OF  CONSCIENCE  35 

man  ;  but  it  contributes  nothing  to  the  truth  per- 
ceived. To  this  truth  itself  belongs  inherent  author- 
ity, by  which  is  meant,  absolute  right  to  command, 
not  force  to  constrain."1 

But  if  conscience  discovers  moral  law  to  us,  how 
is  it  that  there  exists  such  diversity  of  moral  judg- 
ments among  men  ?  Calderwood  maintains  that 
there  is  a  very  general  agreement  as  to  the  forms 
of  rectitude,  such  as  truthfulness,  justice,  benevo- 
lence. No  nation  places  these  virtues  in  the  list 
of  moral  wrongs.  But  men  differ  as  to  the  applica- 
tion of  these  principles. 

Conscience  cannot  be  educated.  As  well  teach 
the  eye  to  see,  and  the  ear  to  hear,  as  to  teach  rea- 
son to  perceive'  self-evident  truth.  But  conscience 
can  be  trained  in  the  application  of  the  law,  which 
can  be  known  only  through  personal  experience. 

The  foregoing  thinkers  practically  agree  in  the 
answers  which  they  give  to  our  question,  Why 
do  men  make  moral  judgments?  Men  judge  as  they 
do  because  they  have  an  innate  knowledge  of  mo- 
rality, a  knowledge  not  derived  from  experience,  but 
inherent  in  the  very  nature  of  human  reason.  Rea- 
son immediately  reveals  to  us  moral  truths,  certain 
universal  propositions  which  are  as  necessary  and 
absolute  as  the  truths  of  mathematics.  Conscience 
is  an  intuition  of  the  reason  (ratio).  We  may  call 

1  Handbook,  Part  I,  chaps,  iii  and  iv.  To  the  same  school  belong 
Price,  Reid,  Stewart,  Janet,  Porter,  and  others. 


36  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

the  philosophers  who  adopt  this  view,  rationalists  or 
intellectualists,  rationalistic  intuitionists. 

4.  The  Emotional  Intuitionists.  —  There  are  other 
philosophers  who  agree  with  the  above  that  con- 
science is  innate,  but  do  not  conceive  it  as  a  faculty 
of  reason,  as  a  faculty  that  pronounces  universal 
and  necessary  judgments,  like,  Stealing  is  wrong, 
Benevolence  is  right.  According  to  them  we  either 
feel  or  perceive  that  a  particular  act  or  motive  is  right 
or  wrong  when  it  is  presented  to  us.  We  contemplate 
motives  and  acts,  and  pronounce  judgment  upon  them 
when  they  are  brought  before  consciousness,  and  we 
do  this  because  we  immediately  and  intuitively  feel 
or  perceive  them  to  be  right  or  wrong,  not  because  we 
first  compare  them  with  an  universal  innate  truth 
or  proposition,  delivered  by  the  reason.  —  Let  us 
consider  the  advocates  of  this  view  under  two  heads. 
Let  us  call  those  who  regard  conscience  as  a  form 
of  feeling,  as  an  emotional  faculty,  emotional  intuition- 
ists ;  and  those  who  base  it  upon  perception,  percep- 
tional intuitionists.1 

1  Neither  Shaftesbury  nor  Hutcheson  draws  a  sharp  distinction 
between  feeling  and  perception,  both  using  the  terms  interchange- 
ably ;  but  they  seem  to  me  to  incline  toward  the  view  that  the 
moral  sense  is  an  emotional  faculty.  (See  Martineau,  Types,  Vol.  II, 
Bk.  II,  pp.  524  ff.,  where  their  meaning  of  the  word  sense  is  denned.) 
Hume  is  clearer  in  his  statements  on  this  point,  and  more  out- 
spoken in  his  opposition  to  the  rationalists.  Butler  and  Marti- 
neau, on  the  other  hand,  regard  conscience  as  a  cognitive  faculty, 
but  not  in  the  sense  of  the  rationalists.  With  them  it  is  a  per- 
ception rather  than  a  power  of  reason  proclaiming  general  moral 
truths. 


THEORIES  OF  CONSCIENCE  37 

(1)  According  to  Lord  Shaftesbury,1  man  pos- 
sesses "self-affections  which  lead  only  to  the  good 
of  the  private,"  "natural,  kind,  or  social  affections," 
which  lead  to  the  public  good,  and  "  unnatural  affec- 
tions "  which  lead  neither  to  public  nor  private  good. 
Virtue  consists  in  eliminating  the  latter,  and  estab- 
lishing a  proper  harmony  or  balance  between  the 
others.  But  how  can  we  tell  whether  these  affec- 
tions are  properly  balanced  or  not?  By  means  of 
the  moral  sense,  the  sense  of  right  and  wrong,  a 
natural  possession  of  all  rational  creatures,  which 
"  no  speculative  opinion  is  capable  immediately  and 
directly  to  exclude  or  destroy."  "In  a  creature 
capable  of  forming  general  notions  of  things,"  he 
says,  "not  only  the  outward  beings  which  offer 
themselves  to  the  sense  are  the  objects  of  affection, 
but  the  very  affections  themselves  ;  and  the  affec- 
tions of  pity,  kindness,  gratitude,  and  their  con- 
traries, being  brought  before  the  mind  by  reflection, 
become  objects,  so  that  by  means  of  this  reflected 
sense  there  arises  another  kind  of  affection  toward 
those  very  affections  themselves  which  have  been 
already  felt,  and  are  now  become  the  subject  of  a 
new  liking  or  dislike."2  "No  sooner  are  actions 
viewed,  no  sooner  the  human  affections  and  passions 


1  1671-1713.  "  Inquiry  concerning  Virtue  and  Merit,"  con- 
tained in  the  second  volume  of  the  Characteristics.  See  especially 
Martineau ;  Stephen  ;  Jodl ;  Gizycki,  Die  Philosophie  Shaftesbury' s  ; 
Fowler,  /Shaftesbury  and  Hutcheson.  —  Selections  in  Selby-Bigge, 
British  Moralists,  Vol.  I.  2  Inquiry,  Bk.  I,  Part  II,  Section  IIL 


38  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

discerned  (and  they  are  most  of  them  discerned  as 
soon  as  felt),  than  straight  an  inward  eye  distin- 
guishes and  sees  the  fair  and  shapely,  the  amiable, 
the  admirable,  the  foul,  the  odious,  or  the  despica- 
ble. How  is  it  possible,  then,  not  to  own  that  as 
these  distinctions  have  their  foundation  in  nature,  the 
discernment  itself  is  natural  and  from  nature  alone  ?  '?1 
(2)  Francis  Hutcheson2  follows  in  the  same  path. 
He  regards  man  as  being  moved  by  two  kinds  of 
affections :  self-love  and  benevolence.  In  case  a 
conflict  arises  between  these  two  motive  principles, 
an  internal  principle,  intuitive  and  universal  in  man, 
the  moral  sense,  appears  and  decides  in  favor  of  the 
latter.  The  moral  sense  has  always  "  approved  of 
every  kind  affection,"  has  pronounced  "morally 
good"  all  actions  which  flow  from  benevolent  affec- 
tion, or  intention  of  absolute  good  to  others.  What 
is  the  nature  of  this  faculty  ?  It  does  not,  like  the 
conscience  of  the  rationalists,  evolve  general  propo- 
sitions out  of  itself,  but  perceives  virtue  and  vice  as 
the  eye  perceives  light  and  darkness.3  It  is  a  "  regu- 
lating and  controlling  function,"  "the  faculty  of  per- 

1  The  Moralists,  Part  III,  Section  III.      As  Jodl  says:  "The 
manner  in  which  Shaf  tesbury  speaks  of  this  self -reflection  upon  which 
the  moral  judgment  is  said  to  depend,  is  somewhat  indefinite  and 
vacillating."  Still,he  apparently  means  to  pointoutthat  an  emotional 
element  enters  into  the  process  by  which  such  judgments  are  formed. 
We  may,  therefore,  call  Shaf  tesbury  an  "  emotional  intuitionist. " 

2  1694-1747.     Inquiry  into  the  Original  of  Our  Ideas  of  Beauty 
and  Virtue,  etc.  —  Selections  from  Hutcheson's  writings  in  Selby- 
Bigge,  op.  cit.,  Vol.  I. 

8  Inquiry ,  Section  I,  §  8 ;  System  of  Moral  Philosophy,  Bk  L 


THEORIES  OF  CONSCIENCE  39 

ceiving  moral  excellence."1  "Some  actions  have  to 
men  an  immediate  goodness  ;  "  "by  a  superior  sense, 
which  I  call  a  moral  one,  we  perceive  pleasure  in 
the  contemplation  of  such  actions  in  others,  and  are 
determined  to  love  the  agent  (and  much  more  do  we 
perceive  pleasure  in  being  conscious  of  having  done 
such  actions  ourselves)  without  any  view  of  further 
natural  advantage  from  them.""2 

(3)  David  Humejj  agrees  with  Hutcheson.  He 
discusses  the  question  "  whether  'tis  by  means  of  our 
ideas  [reason]  or  impressions  [feelings]  we  distin- 
guish between  vice  and  virtue,  and  pronounce  an  action 
blamable  or  praiseworthy,"4  and  finds'tha,tjrefl.aor>  a,sj 
such  is  wholly  jpa.p.f.ivp.  a.nd  pan  rjpyftr  bp.  the  source  of 
saagfciye  a  principle  as  conscience,  or  a.  s^n^p  f>f  -morals  . 
Vice  and  virtue  are  not  discoverable  merely  by  reason, 
or  the  comparison  of  ideas.  Our  decisions  conc^m- 
ing  moral  rectitude  and  depravity  ar 


1  System,  Bk.  I. 

2  Inquiry,  Introduction.     See  especially  Martineau,  Types,  Vol. 
II,  Bk.  II. 

8  1711-1776.  Inquiry  concerning  the  Principles  of  Morals,  etc. 
For  bibliography  see  Weber,  History  of  Philosophy,  417,  note. 

4  Treatise  on  Morals,  Bk.  Ill,  Part  I,  §  1  ;  Inquiry,  Section  I  : 
*'  There  has  been  a  controversy  started  of  late  concerning  the 
general  foundation  of  morals  :  whether  they  be  derived  from 
reason  or  from  sentiment;  whether  we  attain  .the  knowledge  of 
them  by  a  chain  of  argument  and  induction,  or  by  an  immediate 
feeling  and  finer  internal  sense  ;  whether,  like  all  sound  judgment 
of  truth  and  falsehood,  they  should  be  the  same  to  every  rational, 
intelligent  being  ;  or  whether,  like  the  perception  of  beauty  and 
deformity,  they  be  founded  entirely  on  the  particular  fabric  and 
constitution  of  the  human  species."  —  Selections  by  Hyslop. 


40  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 


is  more  properly  felt,  than  judged  of; 
though  this  feeling  or  sentiment  is  commonly  so 
soft  and  gentle  that  we  are  apt  to  confound  it  with 
an  idea.1  "  The  final  sentence,  it  is  probable,  which 
pronounces  characters  and  actions  amiable  or  odious, 
blamable  or  praiseworthy  ;  that  which  stamps  on 
them  the  mark  of  honor  or  infamy,  approbation  or 
censure  ;  that  which  renders  morality  an  active 
principle,  and  constitutes  virtue  our  happiness,  and 
vice  our  misery  :  it  is.  probable^  I  €^.y^JJia 

Sentence  rlpp^mjgJ}!l--gnTr>p  int.p.rna.1   SP.TISP.  or 

which  —  nature  kas~-33ftft4e~-4iniversal  in  the  whole 
species*"2  And  what  is  the  nature  of  the  feeling 
by  which  --we  .know  good  and  evil?  To_have  the 

1  Treatise  on  Morals,  Bk.  Ill,  Part  I,  §  2. 

2  Inquiry,  Section  I.    See  also  Appendix  I:  "Now,  as  virtue  is 
an  end,  and  is  desirable  on  its  own  account,  without  fee  or  re- 
ward, merely  for  the  immediate  satisfaction  which  it  conveys,  it  is 
requisite  that  there  should  be  some  sentiment  which  it  touches  ; 
some  internal  taste,  or  feeling,  or  whatever  you  choose  to  call  it, 
which  distinguishes  moral  good  and  evil,  and  which  embraces  the 
one  and  rejects  the  other.      Thus  the  distinct  boundaries  and 
offices  of  reason  and  of  taste  are  easily  ascertained.     The  former 
conveys  the  knowledge  of  truth  and  falsehood,  the  latter  gives 
the  sentiment  of  beauty  and  deformity,  vice  and  virtue.    The  one 
discovers  objects  as  they  really  stand  in  nature,  without  addition 
or  diminution,  the  other  has  a  productive  faculty,  and,  gilding  or 
staining  all  natural  objects  with  the  colors  borrowed  from  internal 
sentiment,  raises,  in  a  manner,  a  new  creation.     Reason,  being 
cool  and  disengaged,  is  no  motive  to  action,  and  directs  only  the 
impulse  received  from  appetite  or  inclination,  by  showing  us  the 
means  of  attaining  happiness  or  avoiding  misery.     Taste,  as  it 
gives  pleasure  or  pain,  and  thereby  constitutes  happiness  or  mis- 
ery, becomes  a  motive  to  action,  and  is  the  first  spring  or  impulse 
to  desire  and  volition." 


THEORIES  OF  CONSCIENCE  41 

sense  of  virtue  is  nothing  but  to  feel   a  particular 
kind  of  satisfaction,  a  peculiar  kind  of  pleasure.1 

(4)  To  the  same  school  belong  also  J.  J.  Rousseau,2 
Kant3  (before  the  critical  period),  Adam  Smith,4 
and  J.  F.  Herbart.5  F.  Brentano  has  attempted  to 
strengthen  the  theory  in  a  peculiar  manner.6  There 
are,  he  holds,  certain  self-evident  judgments,  which 
carry  their  self-evidence  in  them,  which  it  would  be 
absurd  to  deny,  like,  Things  equal  to  the  same  thing 
are  equal  to  each  other  ;  and  certain  instinctive  or 
blind  judgments,  which  may  or  may  not  be  true, 
about  which  there  can  be  dispute.  Similarly,  there 
are  certain  higher  or  self-evident  feelings,  feelings 
which  are  valid  for  all  human  beings,  feelings  about 
which  there  can  be  no  dispute,  and  lower  feel- 
ings, which  lack  this  self-evident  character,  about 
which  there  can  be  dispute.  Thus  we  loVe  knowl- 
edge and  truth,  and  dislike  error  and  ignorance,  and 
there  can  be  no  dispute  about  the  value  of  this  feel- 
ing. Should  a  different  human  species  love  error 
and  hate  truth,  we  should  regard  its  loving  and 
hating  as  fundamentally  wrong.  That  a  man  should 
love  knowledge  and  hate  ignorance  is  self-evident ; 
that  he  should  prefer  champagne  to  Rhine-wine  is 

1  See  Treatise,  loc.  cit.,  Section  II ;  also  Part  mA 
2 1712-1778. 

3  See  his   Ueber  die  Deutlichfceit  der   Gfrundsatze  der  natur- 
lichen  Theologie  und  Moral,  1764.     Cf.  Forster,  Der  Entwick- 
lungsgang  der  Kantischen  Ethik  ;  Jodl,  Geschichte  der  Ethik. 

4  1723-1790.     A  Theory  of  Moral  Sentiments.          *  1776-1841. 
6  Born  1838.     Vom  Ursprung  sittlicher  Erkenntniss,  1889. 


42  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

not  self-evident.  In  other  words,  we  have  an  innate 
feeling  of  preference  for  the  good.1 

5.  The  Perceptional  Intuitionists.  —  In  this  class 
belong  Bishop  Butler,  James  Martineau,  and  W.  E.  H. 
Lecky.  With  them  conscience  is  intuitij^e^bujt  .neither 
a  feeling,.  ,as~  the  foregoing  thinkers  declare,  nor  the 
product  of  reason  in  thB  .Qudworthian  sense,  but  an 
inner  perception. 

(1)  According  to  Bugler,2  there  is  a  superior 
pri  np.jp]  ft  pf  rftflpp.f.ioxL^jar^cojiscience  in  every  man, 

intftrna.1    pjrnf>.jjVI  AS 


of  hiajieart  as  well  a&Jii.s  ftxt^rn  a]  actions  ;  which 
passes  judgment  upon  himself  and  them,  and  pro- 
nounces determinately  some  actions  to  be  in  them- 
selves evil,  wrong,  unjust  ;  which  without  being 
consulted,  without  being  advised  with,  magisterially 
exerts  itself,  and  approves  or  condemns  him  the  doer 
of  them  accordingly.  It  Ja  J->y  this  ,  _f  annl  ty,  na.tnr^l 
to  manr  that-  Jie^is-  a~jn^^  ja  law 

toJbimsfilJLbut  this  faculty^_not  to  be  considered 
merely,  aa,.a._  principle.,  .in,  his--  Jheart,  which  is  to  have 
some  influence  as  well  as_others,  but  considered  as 
a  faculty  in  kind  and  in  nature  supreme  over  all 
others,  and  which  bears  its  own  authority  of  being 
so.  You  cannot  form  a  notion  of  this  faculty,  con- 

1  Hermann  Schwarz,   Grundzuge  der  EtMk,  is  an  emotional 
intuitionist  of  the  Hutcheson  stamp.    We  feel  intuitively  the  worth 
of  sympathy  to  be  higher  than  that  of  selfishness. 

2  1692-1752.    Sermons  upon  Human  Nature.    See  also  Disserta- 
tion upon  Virtue.     Works  edited  by  Gladstone,  1897.     Selections 
in  Selby-Bigge,  British  Moralists,  Vol.  I.    See  Collins,  Butler. 


THEORIES  OF  CONSCIENCE  43 

science,  without  taking  in  judgment,  direction, 
superintendency.  This  is  a  constituent  part  of  the 
idea,  that  is,  of  the  faculty  itself,  and  to  preside 
and  govern,  from  the  very  economy  and  constitution 
of  man,  belongs  to  it.  Had  it  strength,  as  it  had 
right,  had  it  power  as  it  had  manifest  authority,  it 
would  absolutely  govern  the  world.  "What  obli- 
gations are  we  under  to  attend  to  and  follow  it  ?  — 
Your  obligation  to  obey  this  law  is  its  being  the  law 
of  your  nature.  That  your  conscience  approves  of 
and  attests  to  such  a  course  of  action  is  itself  alone 
an  obligation.  Conscience  does  not  only  offer  itself 
to  show  us  the  way  we  should  walk  in,  but  it  like- 
wise carries  its  own  authority  with  it,  that  it  is  our 
natural  guide,  the  guide  assigned  us  by  the  author 
of  our  nature,"  etc.1  "The  whole  moral  law  is  as 
jnuch  matter  of  r e  vealed  comrn  an  rl ,  as  ..positive  insti- 
tutions  are,  for  the  Scripture  enjoins  every  moral 
virtue.  In  this  respect,  then,  they  are  both  upon  a 
level.  But  the  moral  law  is  moreover  written  upon 
our  hearts,  interwoven  into  our  very  nature.  And 
this  is  a  plain  intimation  of  ihe  author  of  it,  which 
is  to  be  preferred  when  they  interfere."2 

(2)  Martineau's3  modification  of  the  intuitional 
theory  is  unique.  On  the  simple  testimony  of  our 
perceptive  faculty,  he  says,  we  believe  in  the  per- 
ceived object  and  the  perceiving  self.  "This  dual 
conviction  rests  upon  the  axiom  that  we  must  ac- 

1  Sermon  iii.  2  Analogy  of  Religion,  Part  II,  chap.  i. 

3  1805-1900.     Types  of  Ethical  Theory. 


44  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

cept  as  veracious  the  immediate  depositions  of  our 
faculties,  and  that  the  postulates,  without  which  the 
mind  cannot  exert  its  activity  at  all,  possess  the  high- 
est certainty."  We  ask  no  more  than  this  on  behalf 
of  our  ethical  psychology.  Let  perception  be  dicta- 
tor among  the  objects  of  sense  ;  conscience,  as  to  the 
conditions  of  duty.1 

Now  we  have  an  irresistible  tendency  to  approve 
and  disapprove,  to  pass  judgments  of  right  and 
wrong.  We  judge  persons,  not  things,  and  we 
judge  always  the  inner  spring  of  action.2  Hence, 
we  judge  first  ourselves,  then  others.  We  could 
not  judge  other  men's  actions  if  what  they  sig- 
nified were  not  already  familiar  to  us  by  our  own 
inner  experience.  But  we  cannot  judge  an  inner 
spring  of  action  if  it  is  the  only  thing  in  conscious- 
ness. A  plurality  of  inner  principles  is  an  indis- 
pensable condition  of  moral  judgment.3  There 
must  be  several  impulses  (incompatible  impulses) 
present.  Without  them  the  moral  consciousness 
would  sleep.  As  soon  as  this  condition  is  realized, 
"we  are  sensible  of  a  contrast  between  them  other 
than  of  mere  intensity  or  of  qualitative  variety  — 
not  analogous  to  the  difference  between  loud  and 
soft,  or  between  red  and  bitter,  —  but  requiring 
quite  a  separate  phraseology  for  its  expression,  such 
as  this  :  that  one  is  higher,  worthier,  than  the  other, 
and  in  comparison  with  it  has  the  clear  right  to  us. 

1  Types,  Vol.  II,  Part  II,  Introduction. 

2  76.,  pp.  18  ff.  8/6.,  p.  37. 


THEORIES  OF  CONSCIENCE  45 

This  apprehension  is  no  mediate  discovery  of  ours, 
of  which  we  can  give  an  ?,ccount,  but  is  immediately 
inherent  in  the  very  experience  of  the  principles  them- 
selves—  a  revelation  inseparable  from  their  appear- 
ance side  by  side." 1  It  is  unique  and  unanalyzable. 

"The  whole  ground  of  ethical  procedure  con- 
sists in  this  :  that  we  are  sensible  of  a  graduated 
scale  of  excellence  among  our  natural  principles,  quite 
distinct  from  the  order  of  their  intensity  and  irre- 
spective of  the  range  of  their  external  effects. "  The 
sensibility  of  the  mind  to  the  gradations  of  the  scale 
is  conscience,  the  knowledge  with  oneself  of  the  bet- 
ter and  the  worse.2  It  is  the  critical  perception  we 
have  of  the  relative  authority  of  our  own  several 
principles  of  action.  All  moral  discrimination  has 
its  native  seat  in  conscience ;  we  first  feel  differences 
in  our  own  springs  of  action,  and  then  apply  this 
knowledge  to  the  corresponding  ones  betrayed  in 
others  by  their  conduct. 

But  how  comes  it  that  men  are  not  unanimous 
in  their  apparent  moral  judgments  ?  This  is  easy  to 
understand.  "  The  whole  scale  of  inner  principles  is 
open  only  to  the  survey  of  the  ripest  mind,  and  to 
be  perfect  in  its  appreciation  is  to  have  exhausted 
the  permutations  of  human  experience.  To  all 
actual  men,  a  part  only  is  familiar,  often  a  deplor- 
ably small  part.  Still,  however  limited  the  range  of 
our  moral  consciousness,  it  would  lead  us  all  to  the 

1  Types,  Vol.  II,  Part  II,  p.  44. 

2  J6.,  p.  53.     See  also  p.  266,  where  Martineau  gives  a  table  of 
the  springs  of  action  in  the  ascending  order  of  worth. 


46  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

same  verdicts  had  we  all  the  same  segment  of  the 
series  under  cognizance."1 

Conscience  speaks  with  authority.  This  author- 
ity is  a  simple  feeling,  admitting  of  little  analysis  or 
explanation.2  But  it  is  not  simply  subjective,  not 
of  my  own  making,  not  a  mere  self-assertion  of  my 
own  will.  How  can  that  be  a  mere  self-assertion  of 
my  own  will,  to  which  my  own  will  is  the  first  to 
bend  in  homage  ?  "  The  authority  which  reveals  itself 
within  us  reports  itself,  not  only  as  underived  from 
our  will,  but  as  independent  of  our  idiosyncrasies 
altogether."3  If  the  sense  of  authority  means  any- 
thing, it  means  the  discernment  of  something  higher 
than  we,  no  mere  part  of  ourself,  but  transcending 
our  personality.  It  is  more  than  part  and  parcel  of 
myself,  "  it  is  the  communion  of  God's  life  and  guid- 
ing love  entering  and  abiding  with  an  apprehensive 
capacity  in  myself.4  Here  we  encounter  an  objec- 
tive authority  without  quitting  our  own  centre  of 
consciousness."  A  man  is  a  "  law  unto  himself,"  not 
by  "  autonomy  of  the  individual "  (as  Green  would 
say),  but  by  "  self  -communication  of  the  infinite  spirit 
to  the  soul "  ;  and  the  law  itself,  the  idea  of  an  abso- 
lute "  should  be,"  is  authoritative  with  conscience, 
because  it  is  a  deliverance  of  the  eternal  perfection 
to  a  mind  that  has  to  grow,  and  is  imposed,  there- 
fore, by  the  infinite  upon  the  finite.5 

1  Types,  Vol.  II,  Part  II,  p.  61.  2  76. ,  p.  99. 

8/5.,  p.  102.  47&.,   p.  105. 

6  For  Lecky's  view,  see  the  first  chapter  of  his  History  of  Euro- 
pean Morals,  especially  pp.  55,  68  ff.,  75,  120,  121  note,  122  ff. 


THEORIES   OF  CONSCIENCE  47 

The  thinkers  whom  we  have  considered  thus  far 
are  all  intuitionists,  either  rational,  emotional,  or 
perceptional.  According  to  them  we  have  an  innate 
knowledge  of  moral  distinctions.  The  truths  are 
either  engraved  on  the  mind,  or  revealed  by  a  supe- 
rior rational  faculty  ;  or  we  feel  or  perceive  immedi- 
ately upon  the  presentation  in  consciousness  of  a 
certain  motive  or  act  that  it  is  right  or  wrong. 
Conscience  is  an  ultimate,  original  factor,  not  further 
to  be  explained,  except  perhaps  by  conceiving  it  as 
implanted  in  the  soul  of  man  by  God. 

6.  The  Empiricists.  —  But  there  is  another  school 
of  moralists,  which  denies  that  the  conscience  is 
innate,  and  attempts  to  explain  it  as  an  acquisition,1 
as  a  product  of  experience.  We  have  no  special 
moral  faculty  which  intuitively  distinguishes  between 
right  and  wrong.  Our  knowledge  of  morality  is, 
like  all  other  knowledge,  acquired  by  experience. 
We  may  call  the  advocates  of  this  view  empiricists 
(from  the  Greek  word  epireipia,  empeiria,  experience). 

(1)  Thus  Thomas  Hobbes2  says:  "It  is  either 
science  or  opinion  which  we  commonly  mean  by  the 
word  conscience  ;  for  men  say  that  such  a  thing  is  true 
in  or  upon  their  conscience;  which  they  never  do  when 

1  Some  of  the  later  mediaeval  thinkers,  like  Duns  Scotus  and 
Occam,  reject  the  view  that  we  have  an  innate  knowledge  of 
morality,  and  hold  that  we  know  right  and  wrong  simply  because 
God  reveals  it  to  us  in  the  Scriptures.  See  Lecky,  European 
Morals,  chap,  i,  p.  17. 

2 1588-1679.  Selections  from  Hobbes's  ethical  writings  by 
Sneath,  and  in  Selby-Bigge,  British  Moralists,  Vol.  II. 


48  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

they  think  it  doubtful,  and  therefore  they  know,  or 
think  they  know  it  to  be  true.  But  men,  when  they 
say  things  upon  their  conscience,  are  not  therefore 
presumed  certainly  to  know  the  truth  of  what  they 
say :  it  remaineth  then  that  that  word  is  used  by 
them  that  have  an  opinion,  not  only  of  the  truth  of 
a  thing,  but  also  of  their  knowledge  of  it;  to  which 
the  truth  of  the  proposition  is  consequent.  Con- 
science I  therefore  define  to  be  opinion  of  evidence."1 
Again :  "  I  conceive  that  when  a  man  deliberates 
whether  he  shall  do  a  thing  or  not  do  it,  he  does 
nothing  else  but  consider  whether  it  be  better  for 
himself  to  do  it  or  not  to  do  it."2  "  Moral  philosophy 
is  nothing  else  but  the  science  of  what  is  good  and 
evil  in  the  conversation  and  society  of  mankind. 
Good  and  evil  are  names,  that  signify  our  appetites 
and  aversions,  which  in  different  tempers,  customs, 
and  doctrines  of  men  are  different,  and  divers  men 
differ  not  only  in  their  judgment  on  the  senses  of 
what  is  pleasant  and  unpleasant  —  but  also  of  what 
is  conformable  or  disagreeable  to  reason  in  the 
actions  of  common  life.'^y 

(2)  With  all  this  John  Locke4  practically  agrees. 
He,  too,  rejects  the  teaching  that  there  are  innate  ideas 
or  truths,  either  "speculative"  or  "practical."  Na- 
ture has  put  into  man  a  desire  of  happiness  and  an 
aversion  to  misery,  and  these  are  natural  tendencies 

1  Human  Nature,  chap,  vi,  §  8.         2  On  Liberty  and  Necessity. 
8  Leviathan,  chap.  xv.     See  Lecky,  European  Morals,  chap.  i. 
For  bibliography  see  Weber,  History  of  Philosophy,  p.  301  note. 
*  1632-1704. 


THEORIES  OF  CONSCIENCE  49 

or  practical  principles  which  influence  all  our  actions.1 
That  which  is  apt  to  cause  pleasure  in  us  we  call 
good,  that  which  has  an  aptness  to  cause  pain  we 
call  evil.2  Now  God  has  so  arranged  it  that  certain 
modes  of  conduct  produce  public  happiness  and 
preserve  society,  and  also  benefit  the  agent  himself. 
Men  discover  these  and  accept  them  as  rules  of 
practice.3  To  these  rules  are  annexed  certain  re- 
wards and  punishments,  either  by  God  (rewards  and 
punishments  of  infinite  weight  and  duration  in  an- 
other life)  or  by  men  (legal  punishments,  popular 
approbation  or  condemnation,  loss  of  reputation), 
which  are  goods  and  evils  not  the  natural  product 
and  consequence  of  the  actions  themselves.4  Men 
then  refer  to  these  rules  or  laws,  i.e.,  the  law  of 
God,  the  law  of  politic  society,  the  law  of  fashion  or 
private  censure,  and  compare  their  actions  to  them. 
They  judge  of  the  moral  rectitude  of  their  acts 
according  as  these  agree  or  do  not  agree  with  the 
rules.5  Moral  good  and  evil,  then,  is  only  the  con- 
formity or  disagreement  of  our  voluntary  action  to 
some  law,  whereby  good  and  evil  is  drawn  on  us  by 
the  will  and  power  of  the  lawmaker.6  Hence  con- 
science is  "  nothing  else  but  our  opinion  or  judgment 
of  the  moral  rectitude  or  pravity  of  our  actions."7 

1  Essay  Concerning  Human  Understanding,  Bk.  I,  chap,  iii,  §  3. 
See  also  the  notes  in  Locke's  Common-Place  Book,  published 
by  Lord  King. 

2  J6.,  Bk.  II,  chap,  xx,  §  2  ;  chap,  xxi,  §§  42  f. 

8  Ib.,  Bk.  II,  chap,  iii,  §  6.      *  /&.,  Bk.  II,  chap,  xxviii,  §§  6  ff. 
6  76.,  §  13.  6  /&.,  §  5.      7  J6e)  Bk.  If  chap.  m)  §  8> 


50  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

"  Many  men  may  come  to  assent  to  several  moral 
rules  and  be  convinced  of  their  obligation  in  the 
same  way  in  which  they  come  to  the  knowledge  of 
other  things.  Others  may  come  to  be  of  the  same 
mind  from  their  education,  company,  and  customs 
of  their  country  ;  which  persuasion,  however  got, 
will  serve  to  set  conscience  on  work.  Thus  we 
make  moral  judgments  without  having  any  rules 
4  written  on  our  hearts.'  Some  men  with  the  same 
bent  of  conscience  prosecute  what  others  avoid. "  J 

We  may  also  reach  a  knowledge  of  morality  by 
reasoning  from  certain  first  principles,  which,  how- 
ever, are  also  derived  from  experience.  Knowledge 
is  the  perception  of  the  connection  and  agreement 
or  disagreement  and  repugnancy  of  any  of  our  ideas.2 
When  we  perceive  this  agreement  or  disagreement 
of  two  ideas  immediately,  i.e.,  without  the  interven- 
tion of  any  other,  we  have  intuitive  knowledge.3  But 
when  we  need  other  ideas  with  which  to  compare 
our  two  ideas  in  order  to  discover  their  agreement 
or  disagreement,  we  have  reasoning  or  demonstration, 
and  the  knowledge  thus  acquired  is  called  demon- 
strative.^ But  in  order  that  we  may  reach  certainty, 
there  must  be,  in  every  step  reason  makes  in  de- 
monstrative knowledge,  an  intuitive  knowledge  of 
the  agreement  or  disagreement  it  seeks  with  the 

next  intermediate  idea;   i.e.,  every  step  in  reason- 

/ 

1  Essay  Concerning  Human  Understanding,  Bk.  I,  chap,  iii,  §  8. 

2  /&.,  Bk.  IV,  chap,  i,  §§  2  ff. 

8  76. ,  chap,  ii,  §  1.  4  lb.,  chap,  ii,  §§  2  ft. 


THEORIES  OF  CONSCIENCE  51 

ing   that   produces  knowledge  must  have  intuitive 
certainty.1 

Now  morality  is  capable  of  demonstration  as  well  as 
mathematics.  For  the  precise  real  essence  of  the 
things  for  which  moral  words  stand  may  be  perfectly 
known,  and  so  the  congruity  and  incongruity  of  the 
things  themselves  may  be  certainly  discovered,  in 
which  consists  perfect  knowledge.2  All  that  is  nec- 
essary is  that  men  search  after  moral  truths  in  the 
same  method  and  with  the  same  indifferency  as  they 
do  mathematical  truths.3  "He  that  hath  the  idea 
of  an  intelligent,  but  frail  and  weak,  being,  made  by 
and  depending  on  another  who  is  eternal,  omnipotent, 
perfectly  wise  and  good,  will  as  certainly  know  that 
man  is  to  honor,  fear,  and  obey  God,  as  that  the  sun 
shines  when  he  sees  it.  For  if  he  hath  but  the  ideas 
of  two  such  beings  in  his  mind,  and  will  turn  his 
thoughts  that  way,  he  will  as  certainly  find  that  the 
inferior,  finite,  and  dependent  is  under  an  obliga- 
tion to  obey  the  supreme  and  infinite,  as  he  is 
certain  to  find  that  three,  four,  and  seven,  are  less 
than  fifteen,  if  he  will  consider  and  compute  those 
numbers;  nor  can  he  be  surer  in  a  clear  morning 
that  the  sun  is  risen,  if  he  but  open  his  eyes,  and 
turn  them  that  way.  But  yet  these  truths,  being 
ever  so  certain,  ever  so  clear,  he  may  be  ignorant  of 

1  Essay  Concerning  Human  Understanding,  Bk.  IV,  chap,  ii,  §  7. 

2  76. ,  Bk.  Ill,  chap,  xi,  §  16.    Cf .  also  Bk.  IV,  chap,  iii,  §§  18, 20  ; 
chap,  xii,  §  8. 

3  /b.,  Bk.  IV,  chap,  iii,  §  20. 


52  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

either,  or  all  of  them,  who  will  never  take  the  pains 
to  employ  his  faculties,  as  he  should  to  inform  him- 
self about  them."1  "The  idea  of  a  supreme  Being, 
infinite  in  power,  goodness,  and  wisdom,  whose 
workmanship  we  are,  and  on  whom  we  depend ;  and 
the  idea  of  ourselves,  as  understanding  rational 
beings ;  being  such  as  are  clear  in  us,  would,  I  sup- 
pose, if  duly  considered  and  pursued,  afford  such 
foundations  of  our  duty  and  rules  of  action  as  might 
place  morality  among  the  sciences  capable  of  demon- 
stration :  wherein  I  doubt  not  but  from  self-evident 
propositions  by  necessary  consequences,  as  incontes- 
table as  those  in  mathematics,  the  measures  of  right 
and  wrong  might  be  made  out  to  any  one  that  will 
apply  himself  with  the  same  indifferency  and  atten- 
tion to  the  one  as  he  does  to  the  other  of  these 
sciences.  The  relation  of  other  modes  may  certainly 
be  perceived,  as  well  as  those  of  number  and  exten- 
sion :  and  I  cannot  see  why  they  should  not  also 
be  capable  of  demonstration  if  due  methods  were 
thought  on  to  examine  or  pursue  their  agreement 
or  disagreement.  Where  there  is  no  property  there 
is  no  injustice,  is  a  proposition  as  certain  as  any 
demonstration  in  Euclid :  for  the  idea  of  property 
being  the  right  to  anything,  and  the  idea  to  whicfcs 
the  name  injustice  is  given  being  the  invasion  or 
violation  of  that  right,  it  is  evident  that  these  ideas 
being  thus  established,  and  these  names  annexed 

1  Essay  Concerning  Human  Understanding,  Bk.  IV,  chap,  xiv, 
§4. 


THEORIES  OF  CONSCIENCE  53 

to  them,  I  can  as  certainly  know  this  proposition 
to  be  true ;  as  that  a  triangle  has  three  angles 
equal  to  two  right  ones.  Again :  No  government 
allows  absolute  liberty ;  the  idea  of  government 
being  the  establishment  of  certain  rules  or  laws 
which  require  conformity  to  them,  and  the  idea  of 
absolute  liberty  being  for  any  one  to  do  whatever 
he  pleases,  I  am  as  capable  of  being  certain  of  the 
truth  of  this  proposition  as  of  any  in  mathematics."  l 
(3)  The  Frenchman,  Helvetius,2  does  not  materially 
differ  from  Hobbes  and  Locke.  The  moral  sense  is 
by  no  means  innate ; 3  indeed,  everything  except  self- 
love,  that  is,  the  aversion  to  pain  and  the  desire  for 
pleasure,  is  acquired.  "  In  all  times  and  at  all  places, 
in  matters  of  morals  as  well  as  in  matters  of  mind, 
it  is  personal  interest  which  governs  the  judgment 
of  individuals  ;  and  general  or  public  interest,  which 
determines  that  of  nations.  .  .  .  Every  man  has  re- 
gard in  his  judgments,  for  nothing  but  his  own  inter- 
est."4 Consequently,  the  only  way  to  make  him 
moral  is  to  make  him  see  his  own  welfare  in  the  public 
welfare,  and  this  can  be  done  by  legislation  only,  i.e., 
by  means  of  the  proper  rewards  and  punishments. 
Hence  uthe  science  of  morals  is  nothing  but  the 
science  of  legislation."5 

1  Essay  Concerning  Human  Understanding,  Bk.  IV,  chap,  iii, 
§18. 

2  1715-1771.    De  V esprit;  De  rhomme.    Bibliography  in  Weber. 
8  De  Vhomme,  Section  V,  chaps,  iii,  iv  ;  Section  II,  chaps,  vii,  viii. 
4  De  r esprit,  Discourse  ii. 

5/&.,  II,  17.      Similar  to  the  views  of  Helve'tius  are  those 


54  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

(4)  Even  the  author  of  the  Evidences  of  Christian- 
ity, William  Paley,1  denies  the  existence  of  a  moral 
sense.2  "  Upon  the  whole,"  he  says,  "  it  seems  to 
me,  either  that  there  exist  no  such  instincts  as  com- 
pose what  is  called  the  moral  sense  [here  Paley 
opposes  Hume]  or  that  they  are  not  now  to  be  dis- 
tinguished from  prejudices  and  habits  ;  on  which 
account  they  cannot  be  depended  upon  in  moral 
reasoning,"  etc.3  "Virtue  is  the  doing  good  to 
mankind,  in  obedience  to  the  will  of  God,  and  for 
the  sake  of  everlasting  happiness."4  "We  can  be 
obliged  to  nothing  but  what  we  ourselves  are  to 
gain  or  lose  something  by  :  for  nothing  else  can 
be  a  violent  motive  to  us.  As  we  should  not  be 
obliged  to  obey  the  laws  of  the  magistrate,  unless 
rewards  and  punishments,  pleasure  or  pain,  some- 
how or  other,  depended  upon  our  obedience  ;  so 
neither  should  we,  without  the  same  reason,  be 
obliged  to  do  what  is  right,  to  practise  virtue, 
or  to  obey  the  commands  of  God."5  The  difference 
between  an  act  of  prudence  and  an  act  of  duty  is 

of  Mandeville  (1670-1733,  author  of  The  Fable  of  the  Bees, 
or  Private  Vices  made  Public  Benefits),  Lainettrie  (1709-1751, 
author  of  IShomme  machine,  Discours  sur  le  bonheur),  and  Hoi- 
bach  (1723-1789,  author  of  Systeme  de  la  nature).  All  these 
thinkers  are  materialists.  See  especially  Lange,  History  of  Mate- 
rialism; Jodl,  Geschichte  der  Ethik;  Martineau,  Types,  Vol.  II, 
pp.  312  ff. ;  Lecky,  Morals,  chap.  i. 

1  1743-1803. 

2  See  his  Principles  of  Moral  and  Political  Philosophy. 

s  /&. ,  Bk.  I,  chap.  v.  4  /&.,  Bk.  I,  chap.  vii. 

8/6.,  Bk.  II,  chap.  ii. 


THEORIES  OF  CONSCIENCE  56 

that,  "in  the  one  case,  we  consider  what  we  shall 
gain  or  lose  in  the  present  world  ;  in  the  other  case, 
we  consider  also  what  we  shall  gain  or  lose  in  the 
world  to  come."1 

(5)  -Tflrp.nny  Ttentl-^rn's2  statements  on  this  point 
are  not  more  radical.  He  says  :  "Nature  has  placed 
mankind  under  the  governance  of  two  sovereign 
mas_ters1_pain  and  pleaSxel  ItLis  f or  thejm_alone  to 
point  aiit.jwhat~we^ughtjto^ 

mine  w^hat_wje__s_halL_do.^'  *  "  Conscience- 4s-ar~thing 
of  fictitious  existence  supposed  to  occupy  a  seat  in 
the  mind."4  Conscience's  the  favorable  or  unfavor- 
able opinion,  &-ma^-4tas-frf-ki&~ew-a  -conduct,  .and ..  has 
value  .j)jQly-in-«©~far~asuit_c^^ 

of  utility.  It  is  utterly  useless  to  speak  of  duties, 
he  declares ;  the  word  itself  has  something  disagree- 
able and  repulsive  in  it.  While  the  moralist  is 
speaking  of  duties,  each  man  is  thinking  of  his  own 
interests.5 

According  to  the  philosophers  whom  we  have 
just  been  considering,  man  is  by  birth  a  moral  igno- 
ramus who  desires  his  own  happiness.  He  comes  in 
contact  with  fellows  similarly  endowed,  and  in  order 
to  live  with  them  must  obey  certain  rules.  The 

1  Principles  of  Moral  and  Political  Philosophy,  Bk.  II,  chap.  iii. 

2  1748-1842.     See  especially  Principles  of  Morals  and  Legisla- 
tion. 

3  Principles  of  Morals,  etc. ,  chap.  i. 

4  Deontology,  Vol.  I,  p.  137. 

6  For  Bentham,  see  especially  Lecky  and  Martineau,  op.  cit. 


56  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

pains  and  pleasures  annexed  to  these  laws  point 
out  to  him  the  course  to  pursue.  Pleasure  and 
pain  are  the  great  teachers  of  morality. 

(6)  But,  it  might  be  asked,  how  on  this  scheme 
can  we  explain  the  fact  that  men  pronounce  judg- 
ment upon  acts  without  thinking  about  the  pleas- 
ures and  pains  they  produce  ?  How  does  it  happen 
that  men  love  virtue  for  virtue's  sake? 

An  ingenious  theory,  the  so-called  theory  of  asso- 
ciation of  ideas,  is  brought  in  to  settle  this  difficulty.1 
David  Hartley2  attempts  to  show  how  the  moral 
sense  is  formed  in  a  purely  mechanical  way.  Man 
is  at  first  governed  solely  by  his  pleasures  and  pains. 
He  soon  learns  to  associate  his  pleasures  with  that 
which  pleases  him,  and  then  loves  this  for  its  own 
sake.  The  infant  connects  the  idea  of  its  mother 
with  the  pleasure  she  procures  it,  and  so  comes  to 
love  her  for  her  own  sake.  Money  in  itself  pos- 
sesses nothing  that  is  admirable  or  pleasurable  ;  it 
is  a  means  of  procuring  objects  of  desire,  and  so 
becomes  associated  in  our  minds  with  the  idea  of 
pleasure.  Hence  the  miser  comes  to  love  it  for 
its  own  sake,  and  is  willing  to  forego  the  things 
which  the  money  procures  rather  than  part  with  a 
fraction  of  his  gold.  In  the  same  way  the  moral 
sentiments  are  formed.  They  procure  for  us  many 
advantages  which  we  love,  and  we  gradually  trans- 

1  We  find  the  beginnings  of  this  theory  in  Hobbes,  Locke, 
Hutcheson,  Gay,  and  Tucker.     See  Lecky,  Vol.  I,  pp.  22  ff. 

2  1705-1757.     Observations  on  Man. 


THEORIES  OF  CONSCIENCE  57 

fer  our  affections  from  these   to   the   things  which 
procure  them,  and  love  virtue  for  virtue's  sake.1 

(7)  The  most  careful  and  detailed  explanation 
of  the  moral  faculty  from  this  standpoint  is  given 
by  Alexander  Bain.2  According  to  him,  conscience 
is  an  imitation  within  ourselves  of  the  government 
without  us.  'The  first  lesson  that  the  child  learns 
as  a  moral  agent  is  obedience.  "  The  child's  suscepti- 
bility to  pleasure  and  pain  is  made  use  of  to  bring 
about  this  obedience,  and  a  mental  association  is  rap- 
idly formed  between  disobedience  and  apprehended 
pain,  more  or  less  magnified  by  fear."  Forbidden 
actions  arouse  a  certain  dread ;  the  fear  of  encoun-  , 
tering  pain  is  conscience  in  its  earliest  germ.  The 
sentiment  of  love  or  respect  toward  persons  in 
authority  infuses  a  different  species  of  dread,  the 
dread  of  giving  pain  to  a  beloved  object.  Later 
on,  the  child  learns  to  appreciate  the  reasons  or 
motives  that  led  to  the  imposition  of  the  rules  of 
conduct.  "When  the  young  mind  is  able  to  take 
notice  of  the  use  and  meaning  of  the  prohibitions 
imposed  upon  it,  and  to  approve  of  the  end  intended 
by  them,  a  new  motive  is  added,  and  the  conscience 
is  then  a  triple  compound,  and  begirds  the  action  in 

1  On  Man,  Vol.  I,  pp.  473-475  ;  Vol.  II,  338  f.    See  Lecky,  Vol.  I, 
pp.  22  ff. ,  67  note  ;  Kibot,  La  psychologie  anglaise  contemporaine. 
This  view  is  developed  by  James  Mill  (Analysis  of  the  Human 
Mind,  Vol.  II),  and  John  Stuart  Mill  (1806-1873),  Utilitarianism, 
especially  pp.  40-42,  44,  45,  46,  53  ff. 

2  Born  1818.     The  Emotions  and  the  Will ;  Mental  and  Moral 
Science. 


58  INTRODUCTION  7V  ETHICS 

question  with  a  threefold  fear ;  the  last  ingredient 
being  paramount  in  the  maturity  of  the  sympathies 
and  the  reason.  All  that  we  understand  by  the 
authority  of  conscience,  the  sentiment  of  obligation, 
the  feeling  of  right,  the  sting  of  remorse,  —  can  be 
nothing  else  than  so  many  modes  of  expressing  the 
acquired  aversion  and  dread  toward  actions  asso- 
ciated in  the  mind  with  the  consequences  now 
stated." 

But  there  may  not  be  present  to  a  man's  mind 
any  of  these  motives,  namely,  the  fear  of  retribution, 
or  the  respect  to  the  authority  commanding,  affec- 
tion or  sympathy  toward  the  persons  or  interests  for 
whose  sake  the  duty  is  imposed,  his  own  advantage 
indirectly  concerned,  his  religious  feeling,  his  indi- 
vidual sentiments  in  accord  with  the  spirit  of  the  pre- 
cept, or  the  infection  of  example.  "  Just  as  in  the 
love  of  money  for  its  own  sake,  one  may  come  to 
form  a  habit  of  acting  in  a  particular  way,  although 
the  special  impulses  that  were  the  original  moving 
causes  no  longer  recur  to  the  mind."  Here  we  have 
a  case  of  the  sense  of  duty  in  the  abstract.  This 
does  not  prove,  however,  that  there  exists  a  primi- 
tive sentiment  of  duty  in  the  abstract,  any  more 
than  the  conduct  of  the  miser  proves  that  we  are 
born  with  the  love  of  gold  in  the-abstract.  "  It  is  the 
tendency  of  association  to  erect  new  centres  of  force, 
detached  from  the  particulars  that  originally  gave 
them  meaning ;  which  new  creations  will  sometimes 
assemble  round  themselves  a  more  powerful  body  of 


THEORIES  OF  CONSCIENCE  59 

sentiment  than  could  be  inspired  by  any  one  of  the 
constituent  realities."1 

We  have  examined  the  extreme  rationalistic  and 
empiristic  views  of  conscience.  According  to  one 
school,  conscience  is  a  natural  endowment  of  man ; 
the  moral  truths  are  inherent  in  his  very  nature ; 
his  soul  is  a  tablet  with  moral  laws  written  upon  it. 
According  to  the  other,  conscience  is  not  original, 
but  acquired  in  the  life  of  the  individual.  The 
soul  is  at  birth  an  empty  tablet,  having  no  moral 
truths  written  upon  it. 

7.  Reconciliation  of  Intuitionism  and  Empiri- 
cism. —  Let  us  now  consider  some  attempts  that 
have  been  made  to  reconcile  this  opposition.  Kant 
approaches  the  problem  from  the  rationalistic  side, 
Spencer  from  the  empiristic.2  Kant  repudiates  the 
extreme  rationalistic  thesis  that  we  have  an  innate 
knowledge  of  particular  moral  truths,  and  regards 
as  the  a  priori  element  the  category  of  obligation*  a 
general  moral  form  whose  content  is  filled  by  experi- 
ence.3 Spencer,  on  the  other  hand,  concedes  the 

1  Emotions,  3d  ed.,  chap,  xv,  §§  18  ff.  ;  The  Will,  chap,  x,  es- 
pecially §§  8  ff. ;  also  chapter  on  "  Moral  Faculty,"  in  Mental  and 
Moral  Science.     For  criticism  of  Bain,  see  Calderwood,  Handbook, 
Part.  I,  Div.  II,  chap.  iii. 

2  It  is  worthy  of  note  that  both  of  these  philosophers  were  at 
one  time  believers  in  the  moral-sense  doctrine  of  Shaftesbury  and 
Hutcheson.     See  p.  41,  note  3,  and  Spencer's  first  edition  of  the 
Social  Statics. 

3  His  theory  reminds  one  of  the  mediaeval  conception  of  the 
synderesis. 


60  INTRODUCTION"  TO  ETHICS 

presence  of  an  a  priori  element,  and  denies  that  the 
conscience  is  merely  an  acquisition  of  individual 
experience.  Let  us  examine  the  views  of  these 
thinkers  a  little  more  in  detail.  * 

(1)  In  his  Kritik  of  Pure  Reason  Immanuel 
Kant 1  asks  the  question,  How  is  knowledge  pos- 
sible, or  how  is  it  possible  that  man  can  make 
synthetic  judgments  a  priori?  Experience  fur- 
nishes us  with  only  a  limited  number  of  leases;  it 
cannot  give  us  universality  and  necessity.  Are 
these  universal  and  necessary  truths  innate,  as 
old  rationalism  asserted  ?  Not  exactly,  Kant  an^ 
swers.  The  mind  is  endowed  with  certain  functions 
or  principles  or  forms  or  categories,  which  are'  not 
derived  from  experience,  but  are  prior  to  experience, 
hence  a  priori  or  pure.  Though  we  may  not  be 
conscious  of  them,  they  act  in  every  rational  crea- 
ture. The  senses  furnish  the  mind  with  the  raw 
materials,  while  the  sensibility  and  the  understand- 
ing, the  two  powers  of  the  mind,  arrange  them 
according  to  the  forms  of  space,  time,  causality,  etc. 
Thus,  for  example,  I  see  all  things  in  space  because 
my  mind  functions  according  to  the  space  form. 
When  I  judge  that  heat  expands  bodies,  I  have 
ideas  of  heat,  expansion,  and  bodies,  elements  ulti- 
mately furnished  by  sensation,  and  the  idea  that  the 
heat  is  the  cause  of  the  expansion,  the  notion  of 

1  1729-1804.  For  Kant's  ethics,  see  Cohen,  Kanf  s  Begrundung 
der  Ethik  ;  Schurman,  Kantian  Ethics  and  the  Ethics  of  Evolu- 
tion; Porter,  Kant's  Ethics ;  Paulsen,  Kant;  translation  of  Kant's 
ethical  writings  by  Abbott,  Kant's  Theory  of  Ethics. 


THEORIES  OF  CONSCIENCE  61 

causality,  which  is  not  derived  from  sensation,  but 
which  is  a  way  my  intellect  has  of  looking  at  things. 
These  forms  or  categories  are,  as  it  were,  the  colored 
glasses  through  which  the  theoretical  reason  views 
the  world.1 . 

However,  we  approach  the  world  not  merely  from 
the  theoretical  standpoint,  but  from  the  practical  or 
moral  standpoint ;  we  ^say  not  only  what  is,  but 
what  ought  to^>e.  Tlie^fc^son  not  only  arranges 
its  phenomena  in  space,  time,  and  according  to  the 
causal  law,  but  also  commands  that  they  be  arranged 
according  to  the  moral  law.  Its  commands  are 
unconditional,  absolute,  or  categorical  imperatives; 
it  speaks  with  authority :  Thou  shalt,  Thou  shalt 
not.  "The  theoretical  use  of  reason  is  that  by 
which  I  know  a  priori  (as  necessary)  that  something 
is,  while  the  practical  use  of  reason  is  that  by  which 
I  know  a  priori  what  ought  to  be."  I  assume  that 
there  really  exist  pure  moral  laws,  which  determine 
completely  a  priori  the  conduct  of  every  rational 
creature.  I  can  with  justice  presuppose  the  prop- 
osition because  I  can  appeal  not  only  to  the  proofs 
of  the  most  enlightened  moralists,  but  also  to  the 
moral  judgment  of  every  human  being.2 

Now  the  question  is,  How  is  all  this  possible  ? 
Knowledge  is  possible,  as  we  have  seen,  because  of 

1  For  Kant's  theory  of  knowledge,  see  the  histories  of  philos- 
ophy, e.g.,  Weber,  where  a  bibliography  is  found. 

2  Kritik  of  Pure  Reason,  Max  Miiller's  translation,  pp.  510,  647. 
See  also  Abbott's  translation  of  the  ethical  writings,  pp.  28,  97  f., 
119,  136. 


62  INTRODUCTION-  TO  ETHICS 

certain  innate  or  a  priori  forms  or  conditions  whj.Ji 
make  it  necessary  for  the  mind  to  function  as  it 
functions.  But  how  is  morality  possible  ?  Are  the 
different  imperatives  or  moral  laws  innate,  as  Cud- 
worth  and  men  of  his  ilk  would  assert  ?  No,  says 
Kant,  not  exactly.  But  there  is  present  in  the 
practical  reason  a  formal  principle  or  condition,  a 
form  or  category  of  obligation  or  oughtness,  not 
derived  from  experience,  but  prior  to  it,  a  priori,  a 
universally  valid  law,  by  virtue  of  which  man  is  a 
moral  being.1  And,  what  does  this  categorical  im- 
perative enjoin  ?  we  ask.  Kant  answers,  "  Act  so 
that  the  maxim  of  thy  will  can  always  at  the  same 
time  hold  good  as  a  principle  of  universal  legisla- 
tion."2 That  is,  do  not  perform  acts  of  which  thou 
canst  not  will  that  they  become  universal.  The 
deceiver  cannot  will  that  lying  should  become  a  uni- 
versal law,  for  with  such  a  law  there  would  be  no 
promises  at  all;  and  his  maxim  would  necessarily 
destroy  itself.  This  law  or  maxim  is  valid  for  all 
rational  creatures  generally,  not  only  under  certain 
contingent  conditions,  but  with  absolute  necessity. 
Although  common  men  do  not  conceive  it  in  such 
an  abstract  and  universal  form,  yet  they  always 
really  have  it  before  their  eyes,  and  use  it  as  the 
standard  of  their  decision.3 

1  See  Abbott,  Kant's  Theory  of  Ethics,  p.  28. 

2/6.,  pp.  17  ff.,  38  ff. 

3/6.,  pp.  20,  21,  93,  120  note,  192,  311,  321,  343.  "Man 
(even  the  worst)  does  not  in  any  maxim,  as  it  were,  rebelliously 
abandon  the  moral  law  (and  renounce  obedience  to  it).  On  the 


THEORIES   OF  CONSCIENCE  63 

There  is,  then,  a  moral  imperative  inherent  in  the 
very  nature  of  man,  which  categorically  commands. 
But  the  question  is,  Whence  does  it  come?  Is  it 
the  voice  of  a  suprasensible  being  speaking  in  the 
heart  of  man  ?  In  a  certain  sense,  yes.  It  is  the 
product  of  the  free  will,  of  the  intelligible  ego,  of 
the  thing-in-itself.1  "Freedom  is  the  ratio  essendi 
of  the  moral  law,"  that  is,  the  free  will  imposes  the 
law  upon  itself  ;  and  the  moral  law  is  "  the  ratio 
cognoscendi  of  freedom,"  that  is,  we  must  logically 
conclude  from  the  fact  that  there  is  a  categorical 
imperative  in  us,  that  there  is  a  free  will  which  im- 
poses it.2  "  The  question,  then,  how  a  categorical 
imperative  is  possible,  can  be  answered  to  this  ex- 
tent, that  we  can  assign  the  only  hypothesis  on  which 
it  is  possible,  namely,  the  •  idea  of  freedom  ;  and  we 
can  also  discern  the  necessity  of  this  hypothesis,  and 
this  is  sufficient  for  the  practical  exercise  of  reason, 
that  is,  for  the  conviction  of  the  validity  of  this  im- 
perative, and  hence  of  the  moral  law  :  but  how  this 
hypothesis  itself  is  possible  can  never  be  discerned 
by  any  human  reason."3 

contrary,  this  forces  itself  upon  him  irresistibly  by  virtue  of  his 
moral  nature,  and  if  no  other  spring  opposed  it,  he  would  also 
adopt  it  into  his  ultimate  maxim  as  the  adequate  determining 
principle  of  his  elective  will,  —  that  is,  he  would  be  morally 
good." 

1  Abbott,  Kant's  Theory  of  Ethics,  pp.  65  ff.     Green  :  "  It  is  the 
very  essence  of  moral  duty  to  be  imposed  by  man  upon  himself." 

2  "  I  can  because  I  must." 

8  76. ,  p.  81.  See  also  p.  84  :  "  It  is,  therefore,  no  fault  in  our 
deduction  of  the  supreme  principle  of  morality,  but  an  objection 


64  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

(2)  Although  Charles  Darwin1  did  not  work  out  a 
complete  system  of  ethics,  it  will  be  interesting  to 
examine  his  view  of  conscience  before  taking  up 
Spencer's  theory.  Darwin  bases  our  entire  moral  \ 
nature  upon  the  social  impulse  or  sympathy.2  He 
regards  it  as  highly  probable  that  any  animal  what- 
ever, endowed  with  well-marked  social  instincts,  the 
parental  and  filial  affections  being  herein  included, 
would  inevitably  acquire  a  moral  sense  or  conscience 
as  soon  as  its  intellectual  powers  had  become  as  well 
or  nearly  as  well  developed  as  in  man.  Let  us  im- 
agine that  the  animal  has  certain  self-regarding 
instincts,  e.g.,  the  desire  to  satisfy  hunger  or  any 
passion  such  as  vengeance,  and  social  instincts,  which 
lead  it  to  take  pleasure  in  the  society  of  its  fellows 
and  to  feel  for  them  and  to  perform  services  for 
them.  Such  selfish  instincts,  though  strong,  are 
temporary,  and  can,  for  a  time,  be  fully  satisfied. 
With  animals,  however,  which  live  permanently  in 
a  body,  the  social  instincts  are  ever  present  and  per- 
sistent. Now  suppose  that  an  enduring  and  always 

that  should  be  made  to  human  reason  in  general  that  it  cannot 
enable  us  to  conceive  the  absolute  necessity  of  an  unconditional 
practical  law  such  as  the  categorical  imperative  must  be."  To  the 
Kantian  school  belong,  T.  H.  Green  (Prolegomena  to  Ethics,  1883), 
Muirhead  (Elements  of  Ethics},  J.  S.  Mackenzie  (Manual  of  Eth- 
ics}, J.  Seth  (A  Study  of  Ethical  Principles},  and  D'Arcy  (A  Short 
Study  of  Ethics}. 

1 1808-1882.  For  exposition  and  criticism,  see  Schurman,  Ethi- 
cal Import  of  Darwinism;  Sully,  Sensation  and  Intuition,  pp.  17, 
18  ;  Martineau,  Types ;  Williams,  Evolutional  Ethics ;  Guyau,  La 
morale  anglaise  contemporaine. 

2  See  his  Descent  of  Man,  chap.  iv. 


THEORIES  OF  CONSCIENCE  65 

present  social  instinct  has  yielded  to  one  of  these 
other  instincts  which  was  stronger  at  the  time,  but 
did  not  endure  nor  leave  behind  it  a  very  vivid 
impression  (like  hunger).  And  suppose  the  animal 
has  the  power  of  memory.  It  will  remember  its  past 
actions  and  motives,  and  feel  dissatisfaction  or  even 
misery  because  an  enduring  instinct  was  not  satisfied.1 
On  the  same  principle  we  may  explain  why  man 
feels  that  he  ought  to  obey  one  instinctive  desire 
rather  than  another ;  why  he  is  bitterly  regretful  if 
he  has  yielded  to  a  strong  sense  of  self-preserva- 
tion, and  has  not  risked  his  life  to  save  that  of  a 
fellow-creature,  or  why  he  regrets  having  stolen  food 
from  hunger.2  Man  reflects  and  so  cannot  help 
remembering  the  past.  He  will  be  driven  to  make 
a  comparison  between  the  impression  of  past  hunger, 
vengeance  satisfied,  etc.,  and  the  ever  present  in- 
stinct of  sympathy,  and  his  early  knowledge  of  what 
others  consider  as  blamable  or  praiseworthy.  "  This 
knowledge  cannot  be  banished  from  his  mind,  and 
from  instinctive  sympathy  is  esteemed  of  great  mo- 
ment. He  will  feel  as  if  he  had  been  balked  in 
following  a  present  instinct  or  habit,  and  this  with 

1  The  Descent  of  Man,  pp.  98  ff.  Darwin  finds  "something 
very  like  a  conscience  "  in  dogs.  Thus,  "  a  struggle  may  often  be 
observed  in  animals  between  different  instincts,  or  between  an 
instinct  and  some  habitual  disposition,  as  when  a  dog  rushes  after 
a  hare,  is  rebuked,  pauses,  hesitates,  pursues  again,  or  returns 
ashamed  to  his  master ;  or  as  between  the  love  of  a  female  dog  for 
her  young  puppies  and  her  master, — for  she  may  be  seen  to 
slink  away  to  them,  as  if  half  ashamed  of  not  accompanying  her 
master."  p.  10 r.  2 /&.,  p.  110. 


66  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

all  animals  causes  dissatisfaction  and  even  misery." 
He  will  then  feel  remorse,  repentance,  regret,  or 
shame.  "  He  will  consequently  resolve,  more  or  less 
firmly,  to  act  differently  for  the  future;  and  this 
is  conscience ;  for  conscience  looks  backwards,  and 
serves  as  a  guide  to  the  future."1  Prompted  by  his 
conscience  man  will  become  habituated  to  self-com- 
mand, so  that  his  desires  and  passions  will  yield 
instantly  to  his  social  instincts.  It  is  possible  that 
the  habit  of  self-command  may,  like  other  habits,  be 
inherited.  "  Thus  at  last  man  comes  to  feel,  through 
acquired  and  perhaps  inherited  habit,  that  it  is  best 
for  him  to  obey  his  more  persistent  impulses.  The 
imperious  word  ought  seems  merely  to  imply  the 
consciousness  of  the  existence  of  a  rule  of  conduct, 
however  it  may  have  originated."2 

(3)  According  to  Herbert  Spencer3  the  essential 
trait  in  the  moral  consciousness  is  the  control  of 
some  feeling  or  feelings  by  some  other  feeling  or 
feelings.  In  the  rudest  groups  of  society,  the  lead- 
ing check  to  the  immediate  satisfaction  of  desires  is 
the  fear  of  the  anger  of  fellow-savages.  When 
special  strength,  skill,  or  courage  makes  one  of  them 
a  leader  in  battle,  he  inspires  the  most  fear,  and 
there  comes  to  be  a  more  decided  check  than  before. 

1  The  Descent  of  Man,  pp.  113  f. 

2  See  also  the  interesting  passage  on  p.  124,  which  I  have  quoted 
in  chap,  iii,  §  9,  of  this  book.     A.   Sutherland  has  developed 
Darwin's  theory  in  his  able  work,  The  Origin  and  Growth  of  the 
Moral  Instinct,  2  vols.,  1898. 

s  Born  1820.     Principles  of  Ethics. 


THEORIES  OF  CONSCIENCE  67 

As  chieftainship  is  established,  aggression  upon  and 
disobedience  to  the  leader  are  regarded  as  greater 
evils  still.  That  is,  political  control  begins  to  differ- 
entiate from  the  more  indefinite  control  of  mutual 
dread.  Meanwhile  there  has  been  developing  the 
ghost-theory.  The  double  of  a  deceased  man  is  con-  / 
ceived  as  able  to  injure  the  survivors.  Now  there 
grows  up  another  kind  of  check  on  immediate  satis- 
faction of  the  desires  —  a  check  constituted  by  ideas 
of  the  evils  which  ghosts  may  inflict  if  offended  ; 
and  when  political  headship  gets  settled,  and  the 
ghosts  of  dead  chiefs  are  especially  dreaded,  there 
begins  to  take  shape  the  form  of  restraint  distin- 
guished as  religious.  These  three  differentiated 
forms  of  control,  while  enforcing  kindred  restraints 
and  incentives,  also  enforce  one  another.  All  of 
them  involve  the  sacrifice  of  immediate  special  bene- 
fits for  the  sake  of  more  distant  and  general  benefits. 
But  joint  aggressions  upon  men  outside  of  the 
society  cannot  prosper  if  there  are  many  aggressions 
within  the  society.  Gradually,  as  the  power  of  the 
ruler  becomes  greater,  he  forbids  the  aggressions 
and  inflicts  punishments  for  disobedience.  Pres- 
ently, political  restraints  of  this  class  are  enforced 
by  religious  restraints.  Dread  of  the  ghost  of  the 
dead  chief  tends  to  produce  regard  for  the  com- 
mands he  habitually  gave,  and  they  eventually 
acquire  sacredness.  With  further  social  evolution 
come  further  interdicts,  until  eventually  there  grows 
up  a  body  of  civil  laws,  the  breach  of  which  is  also 


68  INTRODUCTION-  TO  ETHICS 

disapproved  by  the  society  and  looked  upon  as  dis- 
pleasing to  the  gods. 

These  three  controls,  political,  religious,  and 
social,  however,  do  not  constitute  the  moral  con- 
trol, but  are  only  preparatory  to  it.  The  moral 
restraints  refer  not  to  the  extrinsic  effects  of  actions, 
but  to  their  intrinsic  effects,  not  to  the  incidental, 
collateral,  non-necessary  consequences  of  the  acts, 
but  to  the  consequences  which  the  acts  naturally 
produce.  "  The  truly  moral  deterrent  from  murder 
is  not  constituted  by  a  representation  of  hanging 
as  a  consequence,  or  by  a  representation  of  the 
tortures  of  hell  as  a  consequence,  or  by  a  represen- 
tation of  the  horror  and  hatred  excited  in  fellow- 
men  ;  but  by  a  representation  of  the  necessary 
natural  results  —  the  infliction  of  death-agony  on 
the  victim,  the  destruction  of  all  his  possibilities  of 
happiness,  the  entailed  sufferings  to  his  belongings." 
"Only  after  political,  religious,  and  social  restraints 
have  produced  a  stable  community,  can  there  be  suf- 
ficient experience  of  the  pains,  positive  and  negative, 
sensational  and  emotional,  which  crimes  of  aggres- 
sion cause,  as  to  generate  that  moral  aversion  to 
them  constituted  by  consciousness  of  their  intrinsi- 
cally evil  results." 

But  I  do  not  always  fear  the  social,  political,  and 
religious  punishments  when  I  contemplate  a  certain 
act,  nor  do  I  think  of  the  immediate  consequences 
which  it  has  upon  others.  I  simply  feel  that  the 
act  ought  not  to  be  done,  I  feel  its  authoritative- 


THEORIES  OF  CONSCIENCE  69 

ness  and  its  obligation  without  considering  any  of 
these  effects  at  all.  Now  the  question  arises,  How 
does  there  arise  this  feeling  of  moral  obligation  in 
general?  It  is  an  abstract  sentiment  generated  in 
a  manner  analogous  to  that  in  which  abstract  ideas 
are  generated.  "Accumulated  experiences  have  pro- 
duced the  consciousness  that  guidance  by  feelings 
which  refer  to  remote  and  general  results  is  usually 
more  conducive  to  welfare  than  guidance  by  feelings 
to  be  immediately  gratified."  The  idea  of  authori- 
tativeness  has  come  to  be  connected  with  feelings 
having  these  traits.  This  idea  of  authoritativeness 
is  one  element  in  the  abstract  consciousness  of 
duty.  But  there  is  another  element  —  the  element 
of  coerciveness.  The  sense  of  coerciveness  or  com- 
pulsion which  the  consciousness  of  duty  includes, 
and  which  the  word  obligation  indicates,  has  been 
generated  by  fears  of  the  political,  social,  and  reli- 
gious penalties.  Now,  this  sense  of  coerciveness 
becomes  directly  connected  with  the  above-men- 
tioned moral  feelings  in  this  way.  The  political, 
social,  and  religious  motives  are  mainly  formed  of 
represented  future  results  (of  penalties),  and  so  is 
the  moral  restraining  motive  (of  the  intrinsic  ef- 
fects). Hence  it  happens  "that  the  representations, 
having  much  in  common,  and  often  being  aroused 
at  the  same  time,  the  fear  joined  with  the  three 
sets  becomes,  by  association,  joined  with  the  fourth. 
Thinking  of  the  extrinsic  effects  of  a  forbidden  act 
excites  a  dread  which  continues  present  while  the 


70  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

intrinsic  effects  of  the  act  are  thought  of ;  and, 
being  thus  linked  with  these  intrinsic  effects,  causes 
a  vague  sense  of  moral  compulsion." l 

Heredity  plays  an  important  part  in  the  process. 
There  have  been,  and  still  are,  developing  in  the 
race  certain  fundamental  moral  intuitions.  Though 
these  moral  intuitions  are  the  result  of  accumulated 
experiences  of  utility,  gradually  organized  and  in- 
herited, they  have  come  to  be  quite  independent  of 
conscious  experience.  The  experiences  of  utility 
organized  and  consolidated  through  all  past  gen- 
erations of  the  human  race  have  been  producing 
corresponding  nervous  modifications,  which,  by  con- 
tinued transmission  and  accumulation,  have  become 
in  us  certain  faculties  of  moral  intuition  —  certain 
emotions  responding  to  right  and  wrong  conduct, 
which  have  no  apparent  basis  in  the  individual 
experiences  of  utility.2 

1  Data  of  Ethics,  §§  44  ff. 

2  76.,  §  45.     See  Spencer's  letter       Mill,  quoted  in  §  45  of  the 
Data  of  Ethics :  "To  make  my  position  fully  understood,  it  seems 
needful  to  add  that,  corresponding  to  the  fundamental  propositions 
of  a  developed  Moral  Science,  there  have  been,  and  still  are,  devel- 
oping in  the  race,  certain  fundamental  moral  intuitions  ;  and  that, 
though  these  moral  intuitions  are  the  results  of  accumulated  ex- 
periences of  Utility,  gradually  organized  and  inherited,  they  have 
come  to  be  quite  independent  of  conscious  experience.    Just  in  the 
same  way  that  I  believe  the  intuition  of  space,  possessed  by  any 
living  individual,  to  have  arisen  from  organized  and  consolidated 
experiences  of  all  antecedent  individuals  who  bequeathed  to  him 
their  slowly  developed  nervous  organizations  —  just  as  I  believe 
that  this  intuition,  requiring  only  to  be  made  definite  and  com- 
plete by  personal  experiences,  has  practically  become  a  form  of 


THEORIES   OF  CONSCIENCE  71 

Here,  it  seems  to  me,  we  get  the  compromise  be- 
tween extreme  intuitionism  and  extreme  empiri- 
cism of  which  I  spoke  before.  Spencer  is  perfectly 
conscious  of  his  relationship  to  the  two  schools.  "It 
is  possible,"  he  says,1  "  to  agree  with  moralists  of  the 
intuitive  school  respecting  the  existence  of  a  moral 
sense,  while  differing  with  them  respecting  its 
origin.  I  have  contended  in  the  foregoing  division 
of  this  work,  and  elsewhere,  that  though  there  exist 
feelings  of  the  kind  alleged,  they  are  not  of  super- 
natural origin,  but  of  natural  origin;  that,  being 
generated  by  the  discipline  of  the  social  activities, 
internal  and  external,  they  are  not  alike  in  all  men, 
but  differ  more  or  less  everywhere  in  proportion  as 
the  social  activities  differ ; '  and  that,  in  virtue  of 
their  mode  of  genesis,  they  have  a  coordinate  author- 
ity with  the  inductions  of  utility."  "But  now, 
while  we  are  shown  that  the  moral-sense  doctrine 
in  its  original  form  is  not  true,  we  are  also  shown 
that  it  adumbrates  a  truth,  and  a  much  higher  truth. 

thought,  apparently  quite  independent  of  experience  ;  so  do  I 
believe  that  the  experiences  of  utility,  organized  and  consolidated 
through  all  past  generations  of  the  human  race,  have  been  pro- 
ducing corresponding  nervous  modifications,  which,  by  continued 
transmission  and  accumulation,  have  become  in  us  certain  facul- 
ties of  moral  intuition  —  certain  emotions  responding  to  right  and 
wrong  conduct,  which  %have  no  apparent  basis  in  the  individual 
experiences  of  utility.  I  also  hold  that,  just  as  the  space-intuition 
responds  to  the  exact  demonstrations  of  Geometry,  and  has  its 
rough  conclusions  interpreted  and  verified  by  them  ;  so  will  moral 
intuitions  respond  to  the  demonstrations  of  Moral  Science,  and  will 
have  their  rough  conclusions  interpreted  and  verified  by  them." 
1  The  Inductions  of  Ethics,  §  117. 


72  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

For  the  facts  cited,  chapter  after  chapter,  unite  in 
proving  that  the  sentiments  and  ideas  current  in 
each  society  become  adjusted  to  the  kinds  of  activity 
predominating  in  it.  A  life  of  constant  external 
enmity  generates  a  code  in  which  aggression,  con- 
quest, revenge,  are  inculcated,  while  peaceful  occu- 
pations are  reprobated.  Conversely,  a  life  of  settled 
internal  amity  generates  a  code  inculcating  the 
virtues  conducing  to  harmonious  cooperation  — 
justice,  honesty,  veracity,  regard  for  others'  claims. 
And  the  implication  is  that  if  the  life  of  internal 
amity  continues  unbroken  from  generation  to  gen- 
eration, there  must  result  not  only  the  appropriate 
code,  but  the  appropriate  emotional  nature  —  a  moral 
sense  adapted  to  moral  requirements.  Men  so  con- 
ditioned will  acquire,  to  the  degree  needful  for  com- 
plete guidance,  that  innate  conscience  which  the 
intuitive  moralists  erroneously  suppose  to  be  pos- 
sessed by  mankind  at  large.  There  needs  but  a 
continuance  of  absolute  peace  externally,  and  a 
rigorous  insistence  of  non-aggression  internally  to 
ensure  the  moulding  of  men  into  a  form  naturally 
characterized  by  all  the  virtues. " l 

(4)    With  this  theory,  as  worked  out  by  Spencer, 
the  views  of  M.  Guyau,2   Leslie  Stephen,3  B.  Car- 

1  Inductions,  §  191. 

2  Esquisse  d'une  morale  sans  obligation  ni  sanction,  2d  ed.f 
1881 ;  English  translation,  1899 ;  La  morale  anglaise  contempo- 
raine,  1885,  Conclusion,  pp.  423  ff. 

3  The  Science  of  Ethics,  1882 :  "  Conscience  is  the  utterance  of 
the  public  spirit  of  the  race,  ordering  us  to  obey  the  primary  con- 


THEORIES  OF  CONSCIENCE  73 

neri,1  H.  Hoffding,3  G.  von  Gizycki,3  R.  von  Jhering,4 
W.  Wundt,6  F.  Paulsen,6  S.  Alexander,7  Hugo 
Miinsterberg, 8  Paul  Ree,9  Georg  Simmel,10  and 
A.  Sutherland11  practically  agree.12 

ditions  of  its  welfare,  and  it  acts  not  the  less  forcibly  though  we 
may  not  understand  the  source  of  its  authority  or  the  end  at  which 
it  is  aiming." 

1  Sittlichkeit  und  Darwimsmus,  1871. 

2  Psychology,  VI,  C,  §  8;  Ethik,  1888.    Conscience,  he  holds,  is 
an  instinct  which  has  developed  in  the  race.     It  commands  categori- 
cally, like  all  instincts. 

3  Moralphilosophie,  1889. 

4  Der  Zweck  im  Becht,  1877,  3d  ed.,  1893. 

5  Ethik,  1886,  2d  ed.,  1892,  English  translation,  in  3  vols.,  by 
Titchener,  Washburn,  and  Gulliver. 

6  System  der  Ethik,  1889,  5th  ed.,  1899,  edited  and  translated  by 
Thilly,  1899.   According  to  Paulsen,  duty  at  first  consists  in  acting 
in  accordance  with  custom.     I  perform  certain  customary  acts  be- 
cause it  is  the  will  of  my  surroundings.     The  will  of  the  people 
speaks  to  the  individual  in  custom.     In  my  feeling  of  duty,  as  it 
now  exists,  the  will  of  my  parents,  teachers,  ancestors,  and  race  is 
expressed.   The  authority  of  the  gods  whom  I  worship  is  also  mani- 
fested in  the  feeling.    At  first  man  obeys  the  law  because  of  external 
authority  ;  in  time  he  comes  to  feel  an  inner  obligation  to  the  law, 
he  acknowledges  the  right  of  others  over  him.     See  Bk.  II,  chap.  v. 

7  Moral  Order  and  Progress,  1889. 

8  Der  Ursprung  der  Sittlichkeit,  1889. 

9  Die  Entstehung  des  Gewissens,  1885. 

10  Einleitung  in  die  Moralwissenschaft,  2  vols.,  1892,  1893.    See 
Vol.  I,  chap.  i. 

11  The  Origin  and  Growth  of  the  Moral  Instinct,  2  vols.,  1898. 

12  For  evolutional  ethics,  see  Williams,  A  Review  of  Evolutional 
Ethics. 


CHAPTER   III 

ANALYSIS  AND   EXPLANATION   OF   CONSCIENCE  1 

1.  The  Psychological  Facts. — Now  that  we  have 
examined  the  historical  attempts  which  have  been 
made  to  account  for  the  moral  consciousness,  let  us 
try  to  come  to  some  conclusion  ourselves.  We  can- 
not, however,  it  seems  to  me,  accomplish  anything 
without  a  thorough  understanding  of  what  the  fact 
we  are  considering  is.  We  must  first  analyze  the 
psychical  processes  concerned  in  this  discussion,  and 
then  seek  to  interpret  them.  The  false  explanations 
which  have  been  advanced  by  so  many  of  the  writers 
whom  we  have  passed  in  review,  are,  in  my  opinion, 
largely  due  to  their  neglect  of  psychology.  To 
assert  that  we  must  study  our  phenomena  psycho- 
logically, means  simply  that  we  must  know  what 
we  are  talking  about.  If  the  science  of  ethics  is 

1  See,  besides  the  works  mentioned  in  the  course  of  the  last 
chapter :  Spencer,  Principles  of  Psychology,  Vol.  II,  Part  VIII, 
chaps,  vii  f. ;  Wundt,  Physiological  Psychology,  Vol.  II,  chap, 
xviii,  3 ;  Hoffding,  Psychology,  VI,  C,  §  8 ;  Baldwin,  Feeling 
and  Will,  pp.  205  ff.  ;  Sully,  The  Human  Mind,  Vol.  II,  pp. 
155  ff. ;  Ladd,  Psychology,  Descriptive  and  Explanatory,  pp.  579  ff.  ; 
Jodl,  Lehrluch  der  Psychologic,  pp.  715  ff. ;  Sutherland,  The  Ori- 
gin and  Growth  of  the  Moral  Instinct,  especially  Vol.  II,  chaps,  xv  ff. 
—  Parts  of  this  chapter  appeared  in  the  January  number  of  the 
Philosophical  Review,  1900. 

74 


ANALYSIS  OF  CONSCIENCE  75 

to  achieve  any  results,  it  must  do  what  all  other 
sciences  are  doing  :  it  must  analyze  the  facts  which 
it  is  desirous  of  explaining.  Metaphysical  specula- 
tions on  ethics  will  have  to  follow  in  the  wake  of 
psychology.1 

As  was  said  before,  we  pronounce  moral  judgments 
upon  ourselves  as  well  as  upon  others ;  we  approve 
and  disapprove  of  motives  and  acts,  we  call  them 
right  and  wrong.  Certain  modes  of  conduct,  we  say, 
ought  to  be  performed,  others  ought  to  be  avoided. 
A  bankrupt  conveys  a  piece  of  property  to  a  friend 
in  order  to  avoid  the  payment  of  a  just  debt,  with 
the  understanding  that  it  is  to  be  returned  to  him 
later ;  but  when  the  time  comes,  the  receiver  of  the 
property  fails  to  make  restitution.  I  disapprove  of 
the  conduct  of  both  parties ;  I  say  that  they  did 
wrong,  that  they  ought  not  to  have  acted  as  they  did. 
Jean  Valjean,  the  released  galley-slave  in  Hugo's  Les 
Miserable^,  finds  a  refuge  in  the  home  of  the  good 
curS  after  every  one  else  had  refused  him  shelter, 
and  repays  his  benefactor  by  robbing  him.  The 
priest  forgives  him,  and  even  tells  a  falsehood  to 
save  him  from  punishment.  We  say  the  convict 
did  wrong,  the  priest  did  right.  Jean  Valjean,  over- 
come by  the  sweet  charity  of  the  good  old  man, 
leads  a  useful  and  honorable  life  from  that  time  on. 
But  one  day  he  hears  of  the  apprehension  of  a  sup- 
posed Jean  Valjean.  Now  what  shall  he  do  ?  One 

1  See  Simmel,  Einleitung  in  die  Moralwissenschaft,  Vol.  I, 
Preface. 


76  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

voice  within  him  tells  him  to  let  things  take  their 
natural  course,  and  not  to  forsake  the  position 
achieved  after  so  much  suffering  and  transgression. 
The  happiness  of  thousands  depends  upon  his  remain- 
ing where  he  is.  But  another  voice,  which  we  call 
his  conscience,  blames  him  for  these  thoughts,  and 
urges  him  authoritatively  to  do  what  is  right  and 
give  himself  up.  After  terrible  inner  struggles, 
the  conscience  finally  triumphs,  and  Jean  Valjean 
goes  back  to  the  galleys.  The  conflict  is  at  an  end, 
the  moral  craving  is  satisfied,  and  peace  reigns  in 
his  heart.  Had  he  allowed  the  supposed  Jean  Val- 
jean to  be  punished  in  his  stead,  he  would  have 
suffered  remorse,  stings  or  pangs  of  conscience,  as 
we  say.  He  would  have  looked  back  upon  his  con- 
duct and  still  have  recognized  the  authority  of  the 
right  over  the  wrong.  We  contemplate  the  mis- 
fortune of  the  real  Jean  Valjean  with  the  deepest 
pity,  but  with  all  our  sorrowing  we  cannot  wish  that 
he  had  acted  differently.  Our  moral  approval  rises 
to  moral  enthusiasm,  in  which  our  respect  and  love 
for  the  moral  law  reacfr-their  height ;  we  bow  down 
humbly  before  the  rule  of  right  as  before  a  higher 
power,  and  say,  Thy  will,  not  mine,  be  done. 

2.  Analysis  of  Conscience.  —  We  have  here  ex- 
amples of  the  phenomenon  which  we  desire  to  inves- 
tigate. The  idea  of  a  motive  or  an  act  arises  in  my 
consciousness.  At  once  or  after  some  reflection,  pecu- 
liar feelings  and  impulses  group  themselves  around 
this  idea  :  feelings  of  approval  which  are  pleasura- 


ANALYSIS  OF  CONSCIENCE  77 

ble,  or  (as  the  case  may  be),  feelings  of  disapproval, 
which  are  painful ;  feelings  urging  me  toward  the 
performance  of  the  act,  commanding  me,  forcing  me, 
as  it  were,  to  keep  it  before  my  mind  and  to  recog- 
nize its  authority  over  me,  crying  out,  yes,  yes,  you 
must :  or  feelings  deterring  me  from  the  act ;  a 
kind  of  shame  takes  possession  of  me,  I  feel  ill  at 
ease,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  the  forbidden  thing 
may  have  a  certain  charm  about  it.  Or,  I  may  have 
the  ideas  of  several  acts  or  springs  of  conduct  before 
me,  one  surrounded  by  feelings  of  approval  and  obli- 
gation, the  other  by  feelings  of  disapproval  and  de- 
terrence, the  one  carrying  with  it  a  sense  of  authority 
over  the  other.  These  ideas  may  rise  and  fall  in 
consciousness,  and  with  them  their  concomitant  feel- 
ings. I  may  flit  from  one  set  to  the  other,  until  at 
last  one  may  persist  and  lead  to  an  act  of  volition, 
and  drive  out  the  other.  These  inner  processes 
express  themselves  in  judgments :  This  act  is  right 
or  good ;  This  act  is  wrong  or  bad ;  I  ought  to  do 
this  act;  I  ought  not  to  do  that.  In  popular  lan- 
guage we  say,  My  conscience  approves  of  this,  con- 
demns that,  commands  this,  prohibits  that;  my 
conscience  warns  me  against  or  urges  me  toward 
a  certain  line  of  action;  I  must  obey  the  voice  of 
my  conscience.  In  case  the  right  act  is  willed 
and  done,  or  even  willed  without  being  done,  I  feel 
satisfied  for  having  willed  it,  and  perhaps  a  certain 
sorrow  for  the  vanquished  possibility  with  which  I 
was  in  love.  Indeed,  my  moral  satisfaction  and 


78  INTRODUCTION-  TO  ETHICS 

self-approval  may  become  so  strong  as  to  fill  me 
with  Pharisaic  vanity,  and  I  may  gloat  over  my 
moral  triumph.  If  the  wrong  act  wins  the  victory, 
and  the  thought  of  the  right  one  lingers  on  in  con- 
sciousness, I  feel  sad,  troubled,  ashamed,  contempti- 
ble. I  look  upon  the  conquered  past  and  read  a 
silent  sorrow  in  its  face,  which  goes  to  my  heart  and 
causes  my  soul  to  resound  with  self-reproaches.1  I 
sit  in  judgment  upon  myself  and  pronounce  myself 
guilty.  These  painful  feelings  we  call  feelings  of 
remorse,  repentance,  pangs  of  conscience.  They 
may  become  so  intense  as  to  throw  the  sufferer  into 
the  depths  of  despair,  and  make  him  willing  and 
even  anxious  to  undergo  the  severest  punishments. 
We  see,  then,  that  conscience  functions  both  be- 
fore and  after  the  performance  of  the  act.  When 
the  act  perceived  or  thought  of  is  not  my  own, 
but  another's,  or  only  an  imagined  one,  the  pro- 
cess which  takes  place  is  much  the  same.  The 
feelings  and  impulses  of  approval  or  disapproval, 
already  mentioned,  spring  up  in  me  even  more  read- 
ily than  before  ;  I  judge  that  the  act  is  right  or 
wrong,  and  ought  or  ought  not  to  be  done. 

'  "Certain  feelings  and  impulses,  then,  surround  the 
idea  of  a  deed  and  lead  us  to  make  a  judgment. 
The  act  arouses  certain  feelings  and  impulses  in  us, 

1  See  Euripides's  Orestes,  ^Eschylus's  Agamemnon.  See  also 
the  Gospel  of  St.  Matthew:  "And  Peter  remembered  the  word  of 
Jesus,  which  said  unto  him  :  Before  the  cock  crow,  thou  shalt 
deny  me  thrice.  And  he  went  out  and  wept  bitterly." 


ANALYSIS  OF  CONSCIENCE  79 

and  we  express  this  effect  in  a  judgment  of  value. 
When  we  characterize  an  act  as  right  or  wrong 
in  this  way,  we  are  really  characterizing  ourselves. 
We  evaluate  the  act  because  it  makes  a  certain 
impression  upon  us,  just  as  we  call  an  object  beau- 
tiful because  it  arouses  certain  feelings  in  us.  If 
these  feelings  were  absent,  if  acts  did  not,  for  some 
reason  or  other,  arouse  in  us  feelings  of  approval, 
disapproval,  and  obligation,  we  should  not  judge 
as  we  do,  or  make  moral  evaluations. 

All  the  processes  which  we  have  just  mentioned 
we  may  gather  together  and  embrace  under  one 
general  term,  conscience.  We  must  emphasize  the 
fact  that  conscience  is  a  mere  general  name  used 
to  designate  a  series  of  complex  phenomena,  and  not 
a  separate  special  faculty.  Hence  to  say,  as  com- 
mon sense  does,  that  we  make  moral  judgments 
because  we  have  a  faculty  for  making  them,1  does 
not  help  us.  It  is  not  an  explanation  of  the  fact 
that  we  remember,  to  refer  to  a  faculty  or  power 
of  memory.  To  say  that  we  remember  because  we 
have  the  power  of  memory,  is  like  saying  that  we 
remember  because  we  remember.2 

3.  The  Feeling  of  Obligation.  —  We  find  In  con- 
science a  complexus  of  psychical  elements.  Let  us 
consider  some  of  the  more  characteristic  ones  a 

1  Cf.  chap,  ii,  §  3. 

2  All  these  explanations  remind  us  of  Moliere's  physician,  who, 
when  asked  why  opium  made  one  sleep,  sagely  replied  :  *«  Because 
there  is  in  it  a  dormitive  power." 


80  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

little  more  in  detail.  We  have  a  mixture  of  feel- 
ing and  impulse  which  we  may  call  the  feeling  of 
obligation,  or  oughtness.1  This  feeling,  which  Butler 
emphasized  so  strongly,2  is,  however,  not  merely  a 
feeling  of  "impulsion  toward"  a  line  of  conduct, 
not  the  same  as  any  other  impulse,  as  Guyau 
asserts.3  To  say  that  a  "  pointer  ought  to  point,"  is 
not,  as  Darwin  seems  to  think,4  the  same  as  to  say 
that  a  man  ought  to  be  honest.  Nor,  again,  is  this 
feeling  of  obligation  identical  with  the  feeling  of 
logical  necessity,  as  Clarke  would  appear  to  hold.6 
Moral  obligation  is  a  peculiar  kind  of  obligation,  a 
unique  mental  process.  We  cannot  describe  it,  we 
must  experience  it  in  order  to  understand  it.  In  this 
regard,  however,  it  is  like  all  other  psychical  states. 

is  as  impossible  to  describe  obligation  to  a  being 
that  does  not  feel  it,  as  it  is  to  talk  to  a  blind  man 
of  colors. 

It  is  this  feeling  of  obligation  which  inspires  men 
with  awe,  and  makes  them  believe  that  conscience 
is  a  voice  from  another  world.  Instead  of  explain- 
ing the  phenomenon  they  personify  it,  looking  upon 
it  as  something  outside  of  themselves,  as  a  direct 
messenger  from  heaven.  Even  philosophers  find  it 
difficult  to  account  for  the  authoritativeness  of  con- 

1  The  state  of  consciousness  which  we  call  the  feeling  of  obliga- 
tion contains  an  active  or  impulsive  element. 

2  See  chap,  ii,  §  5  (1). 

8  Esquisse  d'une  morale  sans  obligation  ni  sanction. 
*  The  Descent  of  Man,  Part  I,  chap,  iv,  p.  116. 
6  See  chap,  ii,  §  3  (3). 


ANALYSIS  OF  CONSCIENCE  81 

science  without  having  recourse  to  the  supernatural 
or  suprasensible.  "The  faculty,"  says  Martineau, 
"is  the  communion  of  God's  life  and  guiding  love 
entering  and  abiding  with  an  apprehensive  capacity 
in  myself.  We  encounter  an  objective  authority 
without  quitting  our  own  centre  of  conscience."1 
"  The  authority  which  reveals  itself  within  us, 
reports  itself  not  only  as  underived  from  our  will, 
but  as  independent  of  our  idiosyncrasies  alto- 
gether."2 Kant  likewise  discovers  in  himself  this 
feeling  or  impulse  of  obligation  or  authority  accom- 
panying certain  ideas,  and  finds  that  it  is  expressed 
1'TlJa™™g!£ft  by  thp.  iTnpfirfl±ivfl  jflnnd  :  Thou^shalt, 
Thou  shalt  not.  Hg^abstracts  from  the  content^  of 
these~f>rompting&^£_conscience  that  which  seems  to 
be  com«Hm:  -te—  a4luif..theni4  their  authoritative  char- 
oiLobligation,  and  makes  an  entity 


of  thi^~aJbstractign.  It  is  a  form  j$^ 
space,  time,  and  causality.  But  since.  ih  is  form  or 
category  of  obligation  is  concerned-  with  action  or 
practice,  Kant  calls  it  a  category  of  the  practical 
reason,  or  the  will.3 


1  Types  of  Ethical  Theory,  Vol.  n,  chap,  iv,  p.  104. 

2  /&.,  p.  102. 

8  See  Simmel,  Einleitung  in  die  Moralwissenschaft,  Vol.  I, 
chap.  i.  Kant,  of  course,  does.,  not  regard  ^bligation^as la  feeling, 
but  as  a  deliverance  of  the  practical  reason,  or  wjl^  jhereby  evi- 
dently  emphasizing  the  impulsive  nature  of  the  feeling  of  obliga- 
tion. He  afterward  triesTo*give  tnTs"  abstract  form  of  oughtness  a 
content.  He  searches  for  a  principle  common  to  acts  which  are 
accompanied  in  consciousness  by  obligation,  and  finds  as  the  gen- 

G 


82  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

In  answer  to  Kant  we  may^say  that  the  feeling 
or  impulse  of  obligation  is  no  more  a  category  or 
form  of  the  mind  than  any  other  feeling.  Nor  is 
it  something  outside  of  my  empirical  consciousness, 
as  I  experience  it.  To  say  that  a  feeling  of  author- 
ity or  obligation  is  present  in  consciousness,  means 
that  I  feel  bound  or  constrained  or  obliged  to  perform 
certain  acts.  Obligation  is  not  a  special  category 
or  faculty  or  form  of  the  reason  ;  it  is  a  psychical 
fnnnd  in  consciousness  apart 


fronTrjljlici1  uionUiI  .states.  To  say  that  this  feeling 
or  impulse  is  an  innate  form,  does  not  help  us  any 
more  than  to  say  that  the  feeling  of  hope  is  such  a 
form.  Of  course,  hope  and  fear  and  love  are  all 
"  innate  forms,"  if  we  mean  by  this  that  human 
beings  experience  them  in  connection  with  certain 
concrete  ideas.  What  we  wish  to  know  is  what 
modes  of  conduct  are  felt  to  be  obligatory,  and,  if 
possible,  why  they  are  felt  to  be  so. 

4.  The  Feelings  of  Approval  and  Disapproval.  — 
Some  thinkers  emphasize  this  feeling  of  obligation, 
and  regard  it  as  constituting  the  very  essence  of  the 
moral  consciousness,  or  conscience.  But,  as  we  no- 
ticed before,  the  idea  of  an  act  is,  or  at  least  may  be, 
suffused  with  feelings  of  approbation  and  reproba- 
tion.1 The  contemplation  of  a  deed  arouses  feelings 

eral  characteristic  of  all  obligatory  acts  their  fitness  to  become  uni- 
versal law.  See  chap,  ii,  §  7,  (1);  also  chap,  vii,  §  15. 

1  These  feelings,  too,  like  the  feeling  of  obligation,  contain 
active  or  impulsive  elements,  which  express  themselves  in  bodily 
movements. 


ANALYSIS  OF  CONSCIENCE  83 

of  condemnation,  contempt,  disgust,  abhorrence,  in- 
dignation, etc.,  or  feelings  of  approval,  admiration, 
respect,  reverence,  enthusiasm,  etc.  Some  philoso- 
phers have  laid  stress  on  such  feelings,  and  have 
identified  them  with  conscience.  The  moral-sense 
philosophers l  belong  to  this  class,  which  is  very  apt 
to  overlook  the  authoritative  element  in  morality. 
Esthetic  feelings  may  also  arise  in  connection  with 
those  we  have  mentioned.  I  may  feel  aesthetic 
pleasure  in  the  contemplation  of  a  deed.2  This 
fact  has  led  some  authors  to  identify  the  moral 
sentiments  with  the  aesthetic  feelings,  and  to  loofe~ 
upon  ethics  as  a  branch  of  aesthetics.3  We  must  in- 
sist, however,  that  conscience  is  a  complexus  of  psy- 
chical states,  and  that  the  characteristic  emotional"" 
elements  peculiar  to  it  are  the  feelings  of  approval 
(or  disapproval)  and  the  feeling  of  obligation  or 
authority. 

5.  Conscience  as  Judgment.  —  But  conscience  also 
judges,  and  in  so  far  is  cognitive,  or  intellectual  in  — 
character.  Let  us  see  how  we  come  to  make  moral 
judgments.  The  perception  or  thought  of  an  act 
arouses  feelings  of  obligation  and  feelings  of  ap- 
proval. We  express  these  feelings  in  language  by 
saying,  This  act  is  right  and  ought  to  be  done. 
We  make  a  moral  judgment.  The  judgment  here 
is  based  on  feeling.  When  I  declare  an  act  to  be 
right  or  wrong,  I  am  expressing  my  feelings  with 

i  See  chap,  ii,  §  4.       2  See  Sully,  Human  Mind,  Vol.  II,  p.  167. 
8  See  Herbart  and  Volkmann. 


84  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

reference  to  it.  When  I  say  an  object  is  beautiful, 
I  am  really  saying  that  it  arouses  certain  feelings 
(here  called  aesthetic)  in  me.  When  I  assert  that 
spitting  is  indecent,  I  am  giving  expression  to  the 
feelings  of  disgust  aroused  in  me  by  a  certain  act. 
If  the  so-called  moral  act  and  beautiful  object  and 
indecent  behavior  did  not  provoke  in  me  these  pecu- 
liar emotional  reactions,  I  should  not  judge  them  as 
I  do. 

Some  philosophers  have  emphasized  the  cognitive 
element  in  conscience,  and  have,  therefore,  called  it 
the  faculty  of  moral' judgment.  For  them  it  is  not 
an  emotional  faculty,  but  a  cognitive  faculty,  a  fac- 
ulty that  discovers  truth.  It  is  the  special  faculty 
by  which  we  discern  moral  truth.  We  may  say, 
however,  first,  that  this  is  not  its  only  function,  that 
we  must  not  overlook  the  characteristic  emotional 
and  impulsive  elements  contained  in  conscience,  and 
secondly,  that  there  is  no  difference  between  the 
faculty  which  makes  moral  judgments  (as  such)  and 
the  faculty  which  makes  other  judgments.  The 
difference  lies  in  the  subject-matter  judged  and  the 
mental  background  (feelings  and  impulses)  which 
gives  rise  to  the  judgment.  Judgment  is  judgment, 
whether  it  be  applied  in  morals,  aesthetics,  or  eti- 
quette. Judgment  is  a  fundamental  activity  of 
mind  involving  analysis  and  synthesis.  When  I 
say,  This  house  is  red,  I  am  analyzing  one  of  my 
presentations,  picking  out  of  it  a  particular  qualit}r, 
and  predicating  this  of  the  original  concrete  whole 


ANALYSTS  OF  CONSCIENCE  85 

which  I  have  just  broken  up.  When  I  say,  This  act 
is  wrong,  I  am  really  analyzing  out  of  the  act  the 
feelings  which  it  arouses  in  me,  I  am  stating  what 
impression  it  makes  upon  my  consciousness. 

6.  Criticism  of  Intuitionism.  — Some  moralists  have 
recognized  the  fact  that  conscience  functions  as  a 
judging  power,  and,  therefore,  speak  of  it  in  the 
manner  of  Calderwood,  who  says  :  "  Conscience  is 
that  power  of  mind  by  which  moral  law  is  discov- 
ered to  each  individual  for  the  guidance  of  his 
conduct.  It  is  the  reason,  as  that  discovers  to  us 
absolute  moral  truth." 1  Cudworth  and  Clarke 
looked  upon  such  judgments  as,  Stealing  is  wrong, 
Murder  is  wrong,  etc.,  as  self-evident  and  neces- 
sary, and  consequently  proclaimed  them  as  eternal 
truths,  truths  of  the  kind  discovered  in  mathemat- 
ics. Such  propositions,  they  declared,  are  recognized 
immediately  and  intuitively  ;  it  is  neither  necessary 
nor  possible  to  prove  them.  They  are  inherent  in 
the  mind,  original  possessions  of  reason,  a  priori, 
innate.  Other  writers  believe  that  we  immediately 
perceive  the  Tightness  and  wrongness  of  acts,  that 
as  soon  as  an  act  is  presented  to  consciousness,  we 
perceive  its  moral  worth.  To  this  school  belong 
Martineau  and  Lecky.  The  rationalistic  intuition- 
ists,  therefore,  hold  either  that  certain  moral  propo- 
sitions are  engraven  on  the  mind,  or  that  we  have  a 
rational  faculty  which  is  bound  by  its  very  nature  to 

1  Handbook  of  Moral  Philosophy,  Part  I,  chap,  iv,  p,  77,  12th 
edition. 


86  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

formulate  them,  while  the  perceptional  intuitionists 
maintain  that  we  have  no  such  universal  proposi- 
tions stamped  upon  the  mind  or  turned  out  by 
reason,  but  that  we  perceive  the  Tightness  and 
wrongness  of  acts  and  motives  immediately  upon 
their  presentation  to  consciousness. 

In  answer  to  these  schools  we  may  say,  among 
other  things :  (1)  Although  there  is  present  in  the 
moral  consciousness  an  intellectual  or  cognitive  ele- 
ment (call  it  perception  or  reason  or  what  you  will), 
this  is  not  all  there  is  in  it.  We  must  not  ignore 
the  important  emotional  and  impulsive  constituents 
mentioned  before. 

(2)  We  have  no  such  innate  knowledge  or  per- 
ception of  moral  distinctions  as  is  claimed  by  ex- 
treme intuitionists.  If  we  did,  then  all  men  would 
have  to  agree  in  their  judgments,  which  is  not  the 
case.  It  will  not  do  to  say  that  the  moral  law  has 
been  obscured  and  eliminated  in  savage  tribes.1 
We  cannot  corrupt  or  eliminate  the  perception  of 
space  and  time  in  whole  groups  of  men  ;  how  then 
should  it  be  possible  to  wipe  out  the  a  priori  moral 
forms?  Tfemt  ^ftpT^K..taJtMnk_that  me&_who  are 
apparently  without -eonseien^e  ^re-jiot^ac±iially_ with- 
out it,  but  mexfily^disregaxd  its.. dictates.2  This  is 
undoubtedly  true  of  some  men  ;  but  we  surely  can- 
not claim  that  whole  ages  and  peoples  have  known 

1  See  Leibniz,  New  Essays,  Bk.  I,  chap,  ii,  §  12. 

2  See  Abbott's  translation,  pp.  192,  311,  321,  343  ;  also  Religion 
innerUalb  der  Grenzen  der  blossen  Vernunft,  pp.  235,  285. 


ANALYSIS  OF  CONSCIENCE  87 

the  laws  of  morality  as  we  know  them  now,  and 
have  deliberately  refused  to  obey  them.  But,  it 
may  be  said,  though  men  may  differ  as  to  details, 
they  surely  accept  certain  fundamental  moral  prin- 
ciples as  self-evident  and  obligatory.  Thus  cruelty 
is  universally  condemned  and  benevolence  approved. 
"  It  is  a  psychological  fact,"  says  Lecky,1  "  that  we 
are  intuitively  conscious  that  our  benevolent  affec- 
tions are  superior  to  our  malevolent  ones."2  An- 
thropologists and  historians,  however,  have  adduced 
many  facts  which  seem  to  contradict  these  state- 
ments, or,  at  least,  to  render  them  doubtful.3  "  Con- 
science," says  Burton,  "does  not  exist  in  Eastern 
Africa,  and  repentance  expresses  regret  for  missed 
opportunities  of  mortal  crime.  Robbery  constitutes 
an  honorable  man;  murder  —  the  more  atrocious 
the  midnight  crime  the  better  —  makes  the  hero."4 
"  The  Arabian  robber,"  says  Burckhardt,  "  regards 
his  occupation  as  an  honorable  one,  and  the  term 
Jiaramy  (robber)  is  one  of  the  most  flattering  titles 
which  one  can  give  a  young  hero."5  Mr.  Galbraith, 
an  Indian  agent,  describes  the  Sioux  as  "bigoted, 
barbarous,  and  exceedingly  superstitious.  They 

1  History  of  European  Morals,  Vol.  I,  pp.  99  f . 

2  P.  Re"e  gives  a  long  list  of  writers  who  agree  with  this  idea  in 
his  Entstehung  des  Gewissens,  pp.  9,  10,  25-27. 

3  A  good  re'sume'  of  such  facts  is  given  by  Williams,  A  Review 
of  Evolutional  Ethics,  pp.  466  ff.  ;   Re"e,  pp.  13  ff.  ;  Spencer,  In- 
ductions, pp.  325  ff.      See  also  in  this  connection  Locke's  Essay, 
Bk.  I,  chap.  ii. 

4  First  Footsteps  in  Eastern  Africa,  p.  176. 
*  Wahali,  p.  121. 


88  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

regard  most  of  the  vices  as  virtues.  Theft,  arson, 
rape,  and  murder  are  among  them  regarded  as*  the 
means  of  distinction  ;  and  the  young  Indian  from 
childhood  is  taught  to  regard  killing  as  the  highest 
of  virtues."1  "In  Tahiti,  the  missionaries  consid- 
ered that  no  less  than  two-thirds  of  the  children 
were  murdered  by  their  parents."2  "Indeed,  I  do 
not  remember  a  single  instance  in  which  a  savage  is 
recorded  as  having  shown  any  symptoms  of  remorse ; 
and  almost  the  only  case  I  can  recall  to  mind,  in 
which  a  man  belonging  to  one  of  the  lower  races  has 
accounted  for  an  act  by  saying  explicitly  that  it  was 
right,  was  when  Mr.  Hunt  asked  a  young  Fijian 
why  he  had  killed  his  mother."3  Darwin  does  not 
believe  that  the  primitive  conscience  would  reproach 
a  man  for  injuring  his  enemy.  "Rather  it  would 
reproach  him,  if  he  had  not  revenged  himself.  To 
do  good  in  return  for  evil,  to  love  your  enemy,  is  a 
height  of  morality  to  which  it  may  be  doubted 
whether  the  social  instincts  would,  by  themselves, 
have  ever  led  us.  It  is  necessary  that  these  in- 
stincts, together  with  sympathy,  should  have  been 
highly  cultivated  and  extended  by  the  aid  of  reason, 
instruction,  and  the  love  or  fear  of  God,  before  any 
such  golden  rule  would  be  thought  of  and  obeyed."4 
(3)  We  cannot,  therefore,  prove  the  innateness  of 
conscience  by  referring  to  principles  that  are  uni- 

1  Lubbock,  Origin  of  Civilization,  pp.  397,  398. 

2  /&.  »  /&.,  p.  405. 
*  The  Descent  of  Man,  p.  113  note. 


ANALYSIS  OF  CONSCIENCE  89 

versally  recognized  as  right.  Some  moralists  grant 
the-  truth  of  this  statement,  but  still  maintain  that 
conscience  is  innate.  It  is  true,  they  declare,  that 
the  moral  judgments  of  mankind  diverge,  that  one 
age  or  tribe  may  approve  of  what  another  condemns. 
But  all  times  and  peoples  agree  that  some  form  of 
conduct  is  better,  higher,  nobler  than  another,  that 
right  is  better  than  wrong,  that  we  bow  down  be- 
fore authority.  This  is  practically  the  theory 
advocated  by  the  Schoolmen,1  who  held  that  we  have 
an  innate  faculty,  the  synderesis,  which  tells  us  that 
the  right  ought  to  be  done  and  the  wrong  avoided. 

There  is,  however,  no  such  faculty  as  the  one 
spoken  of  here.  The  proposition,  The  right  ought 
to  be  done  and  .the  wrong  avoided,  is,  like  all  general 
statements  of  the  kind,  the  result  of  abstraction. 
We  find  by  experience  that  many  particular  acts  are 
accompanied  in  consciousness  by  feelings  of  obliga- 
tion and  approval,  and  that  others  are  associated 
with  feelings  of  disapproval  and  deterrence.  We 
bring  these  acts  under  general  heads,  and  call  the 
former  right,  the  latter  wrong  To  say  that  right 
acts  ought  to  be  performed  and  wrong  ones  avoided, 
simply  means  that  certain  forms  of  conduct  arouse 
feelings  of  obligation  and  approval,  and  others  the 
reverse.  The  proposition,  therefore,  that  we  ought 
to  do  the  right  and  refrain  from  the  wrong,  is  a 
general  expression  of  the  fact  that  we  feel  obliged 
to  perform  certain  actions  and  to  refrain  from 
i  See  chap,  ii,  §  3  (1). 


90  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

others ;  it  is  a  universal  proposition,  an  inference 
drawn  from  the  facts  of  experience,  not  an  a  priori 
judgment  of  the  reason. 

(4)  Even  if  it  were  true  that  certain  moral  judg- 
ments  were   universally   accepted,   this   would   not 
necessarily  prove  them  to  be  innate.     They  might 
be  the  products  of  universally  prevalent  conditions. 

(5)  Nor  can  we  prove  the  innateness  of  conscience 
from  "the  self -evidence  and  necessity"  of  some  of 
its  deliverances.     It  is  true  that  such  propositions 
as  :  Stealing  is  wrong,  Murder  is  wrong,  Honesty 
is  right,  etc.,  seem  necessary  and  self-evident  to  us 
children  of  the  nineteenth  century.     But  they  may 
be  satisfactorily  explained  without   our  having  re- 
course to  the  doctrine  of  nativism,  which  is,  after  all, 
merely  a  confession  of  ignorance.     As  we  saw  before, 
the  ideas  of  certain  acts,  say  of  murder  and  self-sac- 
rifice, are  accompanied  in   consciousness  by  pecul- 
iar feelings  called  moral  feelings,  feelings  which  are 
lacking  when  we  think  of  other  acts  or  things.     I 
have  no  such  sentiments  when  I  perceive  or  think  of 
a  tree  or  a  mountain.     Whenever  these  feelings  sur- 
round an  idea,  we  call  that  for  which  it  stands  right 
or  wrong.     To  say  that  stealing,  or  any  particular 
deed,  is  wrong,  means  that  the  idea  of  that  act  is  asso- 
ciated in  my  mind  with  feelings  of  disapproval,  etc. 
Hence  the  judgment,  Stealing  is  wrong,  is  equiva- 
lent to  the  proposition  that   an   act  which  is  con- 
demned and  prohibited  is  condemned  and  prohibited. 
The  words,  stealing,  adultery,  robbery,  murder,  etc., 


ANALYSIS  OF  CONSCIENCE  91 

contain  everything  that  is  expressed  in  the  predi- 
cate, wrong  or  bad;  they  express  not  only  ideas  of 
acts,  but  our  attitude  toward  these  acts.  The  judg- 
ment in  question  is  what  Kant  would  call  an  analyt- 
ical judgment,  i.e.,  one  in  which  the  predicate  is  but 
a  repetition  of  the  subject.  Such  judgments  are 
always  necessary  and  self-evident;  the  predicate  is 
identical  with,  or  only  another  way  of  writing,  the 
subject.  And  when  I  perceive  an  act  to  be  right  or 
wrong,  it  is  because  that  act  arouses  feelings  in  me 
in  consequence  of  which  I  approve  or  disapprove  of 
it.1 

7.  Criticism  of  Emotional  Intuitionism.  — If  all  this 
is  so,  the  question  concerning  the  innateness  of  con- 
science or  moral  judgment  must  be  formulated  in  a 
slightly  different  manner.  Are  the  moral  feelings, 
we  now  ask,  which  accompany  certain  ideas,  the 
original  associates  of  those  ideas?  That  is,  do  the 
deeds  which  we  now  designate  as  right  and  wrong 
always  arouse,  and  have  they  always  aroused,  in 
the  consciousness,  the  feelings  mentioned  before? 

We  can  hardly  assert  ito  One  age,  or  race,  or 
nation,  or  class,  or  sect,  or  even  individual,  may 
regard  an  act  as  right  which  another  views  with 
indifference  or  abhorrence.  We  cannot  read  without 
a  thrill  of  pain  and  horror  the  accounts  of  gladia- 
torial contests  which  the  purest  Roman  virgin  wit- 
nessed without  the  slightest  moral  compunction. 

1  See  Paulsen,  Ethics,  Bk.  II,  chap  v,  §  4 ;  R6e,  Die  Entstehung 
des  Gewissens. 


92  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

The  orthodox  Jew  is  conscience-stricken  for  hav- 
ing lighted  a  fire  in  his  house  on  the  Sabbath,  the 
Hindoo  for  having  occasioned  the  death  of  a  cow, 
the  Turkish  woman  for  exposing  her  face.  The 
ancient  Icelander  regarded  revenge  not  merely  as 
sweet,  but  as  praiseworthy  and  honorable,  and  "it 
most  likely  had  never  entered  the  mind  of  the  Celtic 
chief  that  robbery  merely  as  robbery  was  a  wicked 
and  disgraceful  act."1 

If  these  feelings  of  obligation,  etc.,  were  the  original 
and  inseparable  associates  of  certain  modes  of  con- 
duct, we  should  expect  every  age  and  race  to  pro- 
nounce the  same  judgments.  It  would  not  be  possible 
either  to  add  these  feelings  to  certain  ideas  or  to  sub- 
tract them  from  them.  We  should  not  be  able  to 
educate  them  away,  so  to  speak.  The  truth  is,  our 
parents  and  teachers  not  only  arouse  ideas  in  our 
minds,  but  also  surround  these  ideas  with  a  moral 
fringe.  The  words  of  the  language  which  they  teach 
us  to  understand  and  to  speak,  express  not  only 
thoughts,  but  values.  The  terms,  murder,  robbery, 
theft,  benevolence,  veracity,  sacrifice,  stand  not  merely 
for  acts  and  modes  of  conduct  and  dispositions  of  the 
will,  but  for  our  feelings  and  impulses  in  reference 
to  them.  The  past  transmits  to  the  present  its  ideas 
with  the  moral  halos  encircling  them.  The  present 
frequently  changes  its  values,  and  so  it  happens  that 
acts  which  were  once  associated  in  consciousness 
with  the  moral  sentiments  lose  the  fringe  which  once 
1  Macaulay.  Quoted  by  Bain,  Emotions  and  Witt,  p.  280. 


ANALYSIS  OF  CONSCIENCE  93 

surrounded  them,  or  arouse  new  associations.  The 
sinner  of  yesterday  becomes  the  saint  of  to-morrow. 
8.  Grenesis  of  Conscience.  —  Let  us  now  see  how 
the  process  of  moralization  goes  on.  The  connec- 
tion between  the  moral  feelings  and  the  ideas  of 
certain  acts  is  largely  brought  about  by  education. 
Children  are  made  to  observe  that  certain  acts  do 
not  meet  with  the  approval  of  their  surroundings. 
Frowns,  austere  looks,  shakes  of  the  head,  stern 
words,  and  other  signs  of  displeasure  precede  and 
follow  certain  modes  of  conduct.  The  child  impul- 
sively imitates  these  outward  manifestations  of  dis- 
approval at  an  early  age,  and  so  begins  to  feel  a 
certain  kind  of  uneasiness  in  connection  with  certain 
acts  himself.  He  also  feels  pain  and  anger  when 
certain  acts  are  directed  against  himself,  and  instinc- 
tively resents  them,  or  frowns  them  down.  Words 
spoken  to  him  in  an  authoritative  manner  by  a 
parent  or  any  other  superior  arouse  in  his  conscious- 
ness feelings  of  coercion  and  restraint ;  he  feels 
instinctively  that  he  must  do  a  certain  act  or  leave 
it  undone.1 

1  See  Sully,  The  Human  Mind,  Vol.  II,  pp.  164  f.  :  "The  force 
of  a  command  on  a  child  cannot  be  wholly  attributed  to  experience 
and  prevision  of  consequences.  It  shows  itself  too  early,  and  is 
out  of  proportion  to  the  range  and  intensity  of  the  experiences 
of  punishment.  Here  then  we  have,  as  it  seems,  to  do  with  a 
'residual  phenomenon,'  which  we  must  regard  as  instinctive.  This 
instinctive  deference  to  an  uttered  command  is  in  part  referrible  to 
the  superior  power  of  external  stimuli,  or  sense-presentations  gen- 
erally in  our  mental  life.  A  command  given  with  emphasis  (spe- 
cial loudness  and  distinctness  of  tone,  accompanied  by  intent 


94  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

The  performance  of  acts  which  are  frowned  down 
and  prohibited  by  direct  command  is  frequently 
followed  by  consequences  of  a  disagreeable  kind, 
natural  as  well  as  artificial,  and  the  vague  remem- 
brance of  these  arouses  fear  and  aversion.  The 
child  also  often  hears  that  there  are  other,  mysteri- 
ous beings  who  will  punish  him  for  disobedience, 
and  the  fear  produced  by  the  prospect  is  all  the 
more  intense  because  of  the  uncertainty  and  mystery 
of  the  imagined  evil.1  In  the  course  of  time  he  is 
told  that  there  is  a  God,  and  that  this  God  dis- 
approves of  and  punishes  offences.  And  then  the 
instinctive  craving  for  recognition,  the  desire  to  be 
well  thought  of,  which  may  become  more  and  more 
intensified,  assists  in  turning  the  individual  from 
certain  kinds  of  behavior,  and  attracts  him  to  others. 

look)  is  the  most  powerful  way  of  initiating  or  bringing  on  the 
corresponding  movement  (or  inhibition  of  movement).  In  this 
respect  it  stands  on  a  level  with  the  actual  presentation  of  an 
action  by  another,  which,  as  we  shall  see,  has  a  powerful  tendency 
to  call  forth  an  imitative  response.  This  force  of  external  verbal 
suggestion,  the  effect  of  which  we  have  already  seen  in  the  domain 
of  normal  belief,  is  illustrated  further  in  the  phenomena  of  hyp- 
notic suggestion,  which  Guyau  has  recently  brought  into  an  in- 
structive analogy  with  the  moral  influence  of  education.  (Guyau 
considers  that  suggestion  sets  up  in  the  hypnotized  subject  a  sense 
of  'must,'  or  of  obligation  closely  analogous  to  a  moral  feeling. 
See  his  volume,  Education  and  Heredity,  English  translation, 
chap.  i. )  The  natural  impulse  to  comply  with  commands  is,  how- 
ever, more  than  this,  and  involves  a  rudiment  of  regard  of  what 
others  think  and  say  of  us  as  intrinsically  valuable,  —  that  is  to 
say,  what  we  have  dealt  with  under  the  head,  love  of  approbation." 
1  The  small  boy's  vague  conception  of  the  goblins  makes  the 
threat  that  the  goblins  will  get  him  all  the  more  alarming. 


ANALYSIS  OF  CONSCIENCE  95 

Afterward,  when  sympathy  develops,  love  begins  to 
play  an  important  part  as  a  motive  to  action.  The 
child's  affection  for  persons  around  him  and  the 
God  above  him  makes  him  anxious  to  avoid  causing 
displeasure.  He  suffers  with  others,  the  thought  of 
hurting  them  hurts  him,  and  deters  him  from  certain 
acts.  With  the  growth  of  intelligence  the  agent 
learns  to  understand  the  rationale  of  certain  prohi- 
bitions, and  is  deterred  from  breaking  the  law.  The 
training  begun  in  the  family  is  continued  by  the 
school  and  the  world  at  large.  On  every  hand  he 
meets  with  signs  of  disapproval  and  pain,  and  hears 
the  command,  Thou  shalt  not.  In  this  way  he  learns 
to  fear  and  acknowledge  the  law. 

The  feelings  aroused  by  the  disapproval  and 
authoritative  tones  of  others,  the  feeling  of  pain, 
the  fear  of  punishment,  human  and  divine,  the 
fear  of  losing  the  good  opinion  of  others,  the  fear 
of  causing  injury,  directly  or  indirectly,  to  himself 
and  the  beings  he  loves,  form  the  beginning,  in 
the  child's  consciousness,  of  that  peculiar  complexus 
of  sentiments  which  we  call  moral.  In  all  these 
feelings  there  is  an  element  of  opposition  to  the  acts 
with  which  they  are  associated,  a  kind  of  aversion, 
a  feeling  of  negation  and  deterrence,  of  must  not  or 
shall  not,  a  feeling  which  is  strongly  intensified  by 
the  combination  of  the  factors  we  have  mentioned. 
In  the  course  of  time  many  of  these  factors  drop  out 
of  consciousness,  and  the  feeling  of  opposition  and 
deterrence  conies  to  be  directly  associated  with  the 


96  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

ideas  of  acts.  The  agent  feels  a  check  in  the  pres- 
ence of  certain  acts  without  picturing  to  himself  the 
causes  which  originally  produced  that  feeling.  He 
feels  a  restraint  or  compulsion  which  seems  to  be 
within  him,  and  yet  to  come  from  without ;  its  mys- 
teriousness  fills  him  with  awe.  When  this  senti- 
ment surrounds  the  idea  of  a  deed,  he  cannot  help 
recognizing  its  binding  force  over  him.  All  the 
other  elements  seem  to  fade  out  of  consciousness, 
leaving  behind  a  kind  of  abstract  obligation  and 
disapproval,  a  feeling  of  antagonism  to  the  thing 
with  whose  idea  it  is  connected. 

A  similar  process  takes  place  with  acts  that  meet 
with  approval,  and  we  need  not  follow  it  out  here.* 
These  feelings  of  approval  may  be  intensified  into 
feelings  of  respect,  admiration,  love,  and,  where  the 
element  of  mystery  enters  in,  reverence.  We  ad- 
mire and  love  good  deeds  with  the  same  fervor  with 
which  we  love  and  admire  persons;  we  reverence 
them  as  we  reverence  the  gods.  We  feel  constrained 
or  obliged  to  perform  acts  to  which  our  conscious- 
ness gives  a  moral  value,  we  recognize  their  binding 
force. 

In  other  words,  the  feelings  of  resentment,  fear, 
etc.,  which  we  find  connecting  themselves  with  the 
ideas  of  certain  acts  in  the  consciousness  of  the  child, 
gradually  develop  into  the  feelings  of  moral  disap- 
proval, deterrence,  and  their  opposites,  which  we 
discover  in  the  adult.  It  must  not  be  imagined, 
however,  that  these  feelings  are  developed  in  the 


ANALYSIS  OF  CONSCIENCE  97 

same  degree  in  all  persons.  In  some  the  ideas  of 
certain  acts  merely  arouse  feelings  of  fear.  Many 
persons,  I  am  convinced,  feel  that  they  must  not  do 
certain  things  on  account  of  the  fear  of  discovery  • 
and  the  consequent  punishments.1  Others  are  afraid 
of  the  wrath  of  God  or  other  supernatural  powers, 
here  and  hereafter.  Still  others  are  afraid  with- 
out knowing  exactly  what  they  are  afraid  of ;  the 
thought  of  certain  modes  of  conduct  immediately 
calls  up  a  vague  fear,  of  what  they  know  not.2  On 
the  other  hand,  there  are  persons  who  respect  and 
reverence  the  law,  who  love  duty  for  duty's  sake. 
They  feel  themselves  bound  to  obey  the  law,  without 
feeling  bound  to  any  person  or  institution ;  they 
feel  a  blind  pressure  toward  the  right,  without  being 
urged  by  fear  to  do  it.  Such  characters  are  not,  in 
my  opinion,  as  common  as  is  often  believed.  They 
are  the  rigorous  moralists,  the  moral  enthusiasts. 
They  feel  as  Kant  felt  when  he  said  :  "  Two  things 
fill  the  mind  with  new  and  increasing  admiration 
and  awe,  the  oftener  and  more  steadily  we  reflect 
on  them :  the  starry  heavens  above  and  the  moral  law 
within  ;"B  and  when  he  wrote  his  celebrated  apos- 

1  "  And  the  Lord  God  called  unto  Adam,  and  said  unto  him, 
Where  art  thou  ?    And  he  said,  I  heard  thy  voice  in  the  garden, 
and  I  was  afraid,  because  I  was  naked  ;  and  I  hid  myself." 

2  Schopenhauer  finds  hi  conscience  the  following  ingredients : 
\  fear  of  man,  £  superstition,  •$•  prejudice,  £  vanity,  £  custom. 

3  Kritik  of  Practical  Season,  Part  II,  Abbott's  translation, 
p.  260.    Lord  Houghton  translates  these  lines  as  follows :  — 

"  Two  things  I  contemplate  with  ceaseless  awe  : 
The  stars  of  heaven  and  man's  sense  of  Law." 

H 


98  INTRODUCTION-  TO  ETHICS 

trophe  to  Duty :  "  Duty  !  Thou  sublime  and  mighty 
name  that  dost  embrace  nothing  charming  or  insin- 
uating, but  requirest  submission,  and  yet  seekest  not 
to  move  the  will  by  aught  that  would  arouse  natural 
aversion  or  terror,  but  merely  boldest  forth  a  law 
which  of  itself  finds  entrance  into  the  mind,  and 
yet  gains  reluctant  reverence  (though  not  always 
obedience),  a  law  before  which  all  inclinations  are 
dumb,  even  though  they  secretly  counterwork ; 
what  origin  is  worthy  of  thee,  and  where  is  to  be 
found  the  root  of  thy  noble  descent?"1  They  feel 
as  Wordsworth  felt  when  he  composed  his  Ode  to 
Duty :  — 

"  Stern  daughter  of  the  voice  of  God ! 

OJDuty !  if  that  name  thou  love 

Who  art  a  light  to  guide,  a  rod 

To  check  the  erring,  and  reprove ; 

Thou,  who  art  victory  and  law 

When  empty  terrors  overawe ; 

From  vain  temptation  dost  set  free ; 

And  calm'st  the  weary  strife  of  frail  humanity." 

We  have  seen  how  the  moral  sentiments,  the  feel- 
ings of  approval  and  disapproval,  and  the  ought-feel- 
ing, come  to  be  connected  with  certain  forms  of  con- 
duct in  the  mind  of  the  individual.2  We  may  assume 

1  Kritik  of  Practical  Beason,  Part  I,  chap,  iii,  Abbott's  trans- 
lation, p.  180. 

2  I  quote  from  Ladd's  Psychology,  Descriptive  and  Explanatory, 
p.  582  :  "  The  parent,  or  the  nurse,  or  the  teacher,  deliberately  and 
habitually  connects  with  certain  '  doings '  the  arousement  of  the 
ought-feeling  and  the  feeling  of  approbation  ;  with  certain  other 
forms  of  conduct,  in  the  same  way,  are  connected  the  opposite 
forms  of  these  ethical  sentiments.    With  all  persons,  including 


ANALYSIS  OF  CONSCIENCE  99 

that  they  originated  somewhat  similarly  in  the  race. 
The  primitive  man,  let  us  say,  instinctively  resented 
attacks  upon  himself,  and  those  near  to  him,  and  feared 
the  painful  consequences  which  injury  done  to  others 
was  bound  to  bring  upon  him  and  those  for  whom  he 
cared.  In  the  course  of  time,  with  the  development 
of  society,  the  fear  of  personal  revenge  gave  way  to 
the  fear  of  the  ruler  and  the  State,  the  fear  of  the 
wrath  of  invisible  powers,  the  fear  of  losing  social 
recognition,  the  fear  of  causing  ideal  pain  to  others. 
Then,  perhaps,  the  feeling  of  sympathy,  which  at 
first  included  only  a  few  in  its  scope,  was  extended, 
taking  in  larger  numbers,  and  became  a  motive. 
Finally,  feelings  of  respect  and  reverence  for  the 
law  as  law,  the  feeling  of  obligation,  arose  as  in  the 
case  of  the  individual.  If  it  is  true  that  the  develop- 
ment of  the  individual,  or  ontogenesis,  is  a  repetition 

those  not  thus  well  bred,  the  social  and  even  the  physical  environ- 
ment tends  to  establish  a  similar  connection.  But  this  connection 
implies,  in  its  very  possibility,  the  beginning  of  a  so-called  '  moral 
nature '  for  the  child.  All  its  pleasure-pains  may  thus  come  to 
have  for  it  a  quasi-moral  import.  On  the  basis  of  this  experience 
with  its  own  states  of  affective  consciousness,  considered  as  con- 
nected with  deeds  of  its  own  will  and  voluntary  courses  of  conduct, 
the  intellect  of  the  child  generalizes.  Here,  however,  the  greater 
part  of  the  conclusions — such  as  this  is  right  and  that  is  wrong  — 
are  accepted  as  already  formed  from  those  older  than  itself.  The 
*  freeing '  of  the  idea  of  the  right  from  its  concrete  and  sensuous 
clothing,  as  it  were,  results  in  a  formation  of  a  more  and  more 
abstract  system  of  moral  principles.  Such  are  statements  like  the 
following :  Truth-telling  is  right,  and  lying  is  wrong ;  honesty  is 
right,  and  stealing  is  wrong ;  kindness  is  right,  and  cruelty  is 
wrong,  etc." 


100  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

of  the  development  of  the  race,  or  phylogenesis,  then 
we  must  imagine  that  this  feeling  of  obligation  is 
a  late  arrival  in  the  race-consciousness,  and  not  an 
original  possession  in  the  sense  that  it  existed  in  the 
primitive  soul. 

9.  In  what  Sense  Conscience  is  Innate.  —  The  in- 
dividual, then,  does  not  know  or  feel  at  birth  what 
is  right  and  what  is  wrong ;  nor  is  the  feeling  of 
obligation  immediately  aroused  in  him.  He  pos-  > 
sesses,  however,  many  instincts  out  of  which  the 
moral  sentiments  may  be  said  to  evolve.  Among 
these  instincts,  which  must  be  regarded  as  innate, 
may  be  mentioned:  the  feeling  of  resentment,  the 
fear  of  others'  resentment,  the  regard  for  others' 
opinions,  the  impulse  of  imitation,  the  sympathetic 
regard  for  others'  welfare,  the  tendency  to  submit 
to  superior  powers,  or  to  obey  commands.  These 
instinctive  factors  of  consciousness  form  the  basis 
of  the  higher  moral  feelings  ;  out  of  them  the  latter 
will  grow  under  the  proper  conditions.  If  the  fact 
that  the  higher  moral  feelings  are  bound  to  be  de- 
veloped in  consciousness  under  suitable  conditions 
means  that  they  are  innate,  then  we  must  subscribe 
to  the  doctrines  of  intuitionism.  In  this  sense,  how- 
ever, all  our  feelings,  hope,  fear,  anger,  etc.,  —  in- 
deed, everything  in  consciousness,  our  capacity  for 
language,  our  capacity  for  hearing  and  seeing,  —  are 
original  or  innate.  But  this  does  not  yet  prove  that 
the  moral  sentiments  are  originally  connected  with 
the  ideas  of  certain  forms  of  conduct.  All  that  we 


ANALYSIS  OF  CONSCIENCE  101 

can  assert  so  far  is  that  such  feelings  may  be  aroused 
in  consciousness,  and  may  be  attached  to  the  ideas 
of  certain  acts. 

Moreover,  if  the  evolutionistic  theory  is  correct  in 
its  doctrine  of  inheritance,  we  may  suppose  that  the 
capacity  for  feeling  approval  and  obligation  is  trans- 
mitted by  its  possessors  to  succeeding  generations— ~-^ 
Some  men  seem  to  be  more  timid,  or  cowardly,  or 
cruel,  or  sympathetic  by  nature  than  others,  which 
means  that  these  impulses  are  more  readily  produced 
in  them  than  in  others.  To  say,  then,  that  a  man  has 
inherited  a  great  respect  or  reverence  for  the  law, 
would  signify  that,  if  he  were  properly  trained,  he 
would  develop  these  feelings.  In  this  sense  we  may 
speak  of  conscience  as  an  instinct,  as  some  writers  do. 
And,  furthermore,  if  it  is  possible  for  us  to  inherit 
a  tendency  to  feel  and  to  think  and  to  act  in  a  cer- 
tain way,  why  should  it  not  be  possible  for  us  to  feel 
obligation  and  approval  in  connection  with  certain 
ideas  ?  We  inherit  not  only  fear  in  the  abstract,  or 
the  capacity  for  fear,  but  the  fear  of  particular 
things,  say  of  dark  places,  vermin,  etc.1  If  certain 
fixed  neural  relations  are  formed  between  the  brain 
processes  which  stand  for  particular  percepts,  and 
those  which  stand  for  particular  feelings  (of  fear, 
etc.),  and  are  transmitted  froni  generation  to  gen- 

1  See  James,  Psychology,  chapter  on  "Instinct1';  Sully,  The 
Human  Mind,  Vol.  II,  p.  71 ;  Ziehen,  Introduction  to  Physi- 
ological Psychology,  pp.  2^4^. ;  Schneider,  D&r  ^^nschliche  Wille, 
P.  224.  :.-  i  ';.;  .  :  >' 


102  INTRODUCTION1  TO  ETHICS 

eration,  there  is  no  great  reason  why  such  connec- 
tions should  not  be  formed  between  the  paths  which 
represent  certain  acts,  like  murder,  for  example,  and 
those  which  are  the  physiological  counterparts  of 
the  ought-feelings,  whatever  they  may  be,  and  be 
handed  down  to  offspring.  This  would  not  mean 
that  the  child  is  born  with  these  two  psychical 
states  together,  but  it  would  mean  that,  under  the 
proper  conditions  and  at  the  proper  time,  the  con- 
nection would  be  formed  more  easily  than  if  it  had 
not  already  existed  in  a  long  line  of  ancestors.1 

1  See  Darwin,  Descent  of  Man,  pp.  123  f.  After  quoting  that 
part  of  Spencer's  letter  to  Mill  in  which  Spencer  expresses  his  be- 
lief in  the  transmission  of  moral  intuitions,  Darwin  says  :  "  There 
is  not  the  least  inherent  improbability,,  as  it  seems  to  me,  in  vir- 
tuous tendencies  being  more  or  less  strongly  inherited ;  for,  not 
to  mention  the  various  dispositions  and  habits  transmitted  by 
many  of  our  domestic  animals  to  their  offspring,  I  have  heard  of 
authentic  cases  in  which  a  desire  to  steal  and  a  tendency  to  lie 
appeared  to  run  in  families  of  the  upper  ranks  ;  and  as  stealing  is  a 
rare  crime  in  the  wealthy  classes,  we  can  hardly  account  by  acci- 
dental coincidence  for  the  tendency  occurring  in  two  or  three 
members  of  the  same  family.  If  bad  tendencies  are  transmitted, 
it  is  probable  that  good  ones  are  likewise  transmitted.  That  the 
state  of  the  body,  by  affecting  the  brain,  has  great  influence  on  the 
moral  tendencies  is  known  to  most  of  those  who  have  suffered 
from  chronic  derangements  of  the  digestion  or  liver.  The  same 
fact  is  likewise  shown  by  the  '  perversion  or  destruction  of  the 
moral  sense  being  often  one  of  the  earliest  symptoms  of  mental 
derangement'  (Maudsley,  Body  and  Mind,  1870,  p.  60),  and 
insanity  is  notoriously  often  inherited.  Except  through  the  prin- 
ciple of  the  transmission  of  moral  tendencies,  we  cannot  under- 
stand the  differences  believed  to  exist  in  this  respect  between 
the  various  races  of  mankind.  Even  the  partial  transmission  of 
virtuous  tendencies  would  be  an  immense  assistance  to  the  primary 
impulse  derived'  directly  and/  iijdjrtfcfly'  from  the  social  instincts. 


ANALYSIS  OF  CONSCIENCE  103 

Nor  would  this  mean  that  the  connection  has 
existed  forever  and  will  continue  to  exist  forever, 
that  it  is  inseparable  and  eternal,  or  that  the  same 
combinations  exist  in  all  human  beings. 

Whether  such  tendencies  to  feel  bound  in  the  pres- 
ence of  certain  acts  are  really  inherited,  we  cannot, 
tell  positively,  but  there  is  nothing  improbable  in 
the  thought.  The  fact  that  time  and  training  are 
required  to  bring  out  the  moral  feelings  would  be 
no  argument  against  the  belief.  There  are  many 
instincts  in  man  which  do  not  ripen  at  once  and 
without  the  proper  excitants,  and  yet  we  do  not 
deny  to  them  their  instinctive  and  innate  character. 

Let  us  sum  up  :  The  moral  feelings,  as  we  find 
them  now,  are  comparatively  late  arrivals  in  the  his- 
tory of  the  individual  and  the  race.  They  are  not 
the  original  and  inseparable  companions  of  any  par- 
ticular acts,  but  may  become  attached  to  all  forms 
of  conduct  under  suitable  conditions.  There  is 
nothing  impossible  in  the  notion  that  the  tendency 
to  feel  them  in  connection  with  certain  acts  may 

Admitting  for  a  moment  that  virtuous  tendencies  are  inherited, 
it  appears  probable,  at  least  in  such  cases  as  chastity,  temperance, 
humanity  to  animals,  etc.,  that  they  become  first  impressed  on  the 
mental  organization  through  habit,  instruction,  and  example,  con- 
tinued during  several  generations  in  the  same  family,  and  in  a 
quite  subordinate  degree,  or  not  at  all,  by  the  individuals  possess- 
ing such  virtues  having  succeeded  best  in  the  struggle  for  life." 
See  also  Darwin  and  Spencer  in  the  passages  quoted  in  chap,  ii, 
§  7  (2)  and  (3)  ;  Carneri,  Q-rundzuge  der  Ethik,  pp.  348  f . ;  Ent- 
wickelung  und  Darwinismus,  p.  212 ;  Williams,  Ethics,  pp.  402  ff., 
435  ff.,  449  ff.  ;  Sutherland,  Moral  Instinct,  Vol.  II,  pp.  60  ff. 


104  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

become  fixed  and  habitual,  and  be  transmitted  to 
offspring. 

But,  the  question  may  be  asked,  how  did  the  first 
man  who  ever  felt  obligation,  etc.,  come  to  feel  that 
way  ?  What  is  the  first  origin  of  the  feeling  ? 
Even  if  we  should  maintain  that  it  is  a  form  of  vague 
fear,  we  should  still  have  to  inquire,  Whence  did  it 
spring  ?  It  is  as  hard  to  solve  this  problem  as  it  is 
to  solve  the  problem  of  first  beginnings  in  general. 
How  did  any  feeling,  or  in  fact  anything,  originally 
arise?  We  do  not  know.  We  do  not  know  how 
consciousness  arose,  or,  indeed,  how  it  arises  every 
day  in  new  human  beings,  or  how  one  thought 
springs  from  the  other.  We  think  and  feel  and 
will,  and  think  and  feel  and  will  about  our  own 
thinking,  feeling,  and  willing  ;  but  how  all  that  is 
possible  we  are  utterly  at  a  loss  to  understand.  I 
can  explain  to  you  the  antecedent  and  concomitant 
processes,  both  physical  and  mental,  which  go  with 
certain  ideas  and  feelings  and  volitions,  but  if  you 
ask  me  how  such  a  state  as  a  conscious  process  is 
possible  at  all,  I  must  remain  silent.  I  know  that 
consciousness  is  ;  what  it  is  in  the  last  analysis,  and 
how  it  came  to  be,  I  cannot  tell.  We  have  reached 
the  confines  of  our  science  at  this  point.  Here  the 
moralist  must  take  leave  of  you,  and  hand  you  over  to 
the  tender  mercies  of  the  theologian  or  metaphy- 
sician. Did  God  create  the  feeling  of  obligation? 
Well,  if  He  created  you,  He  created  all  of  you,  and 
there  is  no  need  of  singling  out  one  particular  feel- 


ANALYSIS  OF  CONSCIENCE  1*5 

ing.  Is  the  feeling  of  obligation  the  self-imposed 
law  of  your  own  personality  ?  Yes,  in  the  sense 
that  you  are  your  feeling  of  obligation,  that  the 
feeling  is  not  outside  of  you,  something  standing 
over  and  against  you,  but  in  you  and  of  you. 

10.  The  Infallibility  and  Immediacy  of  Conscience. 
—  After  the  foregoing,  it  will  not  be  difficult  to  dis- 
cover our  attitude  toward  several  questions  which 
are  frequently  asked  with  respect  to  the  conscience. 
Is  conscience  infallible  ?  TTa.-nf.  calls  an  erringf  con- 
scienjsfL^la^chimera.'' 1  Before  we  can  answer  this 
question  we  must  understand  its  meaning.  If  all 
such  acts  are  right  as  are  preceded  by  the  feeling  of 
obligation,  i.e.,  if  the  criterion  of  their  goodness  is 
the  fact  that  they  are  dictated  by  conscience,  then, 
of  course,  whatever  conscience  tells  me  is  right,  is 
right,  and  to  say  that  conscience  errs,  is  to  contra- 
dict oneself.  "  An  erring  conscience "  is,  indeed, 
"  a  chimera,"  if  conscience  is  the  so^ecnterio^of 
the  rr4ttnft.fiffi  and  wrnngrrms^  of  anta. 

But  we  notice  that  the  popular  consciousness 
often  condemns  acts  which  have  the  approval  of  an 
individual  conscience,  and  that  history  frequently 
reverses  its  judgments.  It  would  appear  from  this 
that  a  mistake  has  been  made  somewhere,  and  that 
there  is  perhaps  a  principle  by  which  we  judge  even 
the  dictates  of  an  individual  conscience.  If  it  is 
true,  as  some  hold,  that  the  goodness  of  acts  ulti- 
mately depends  upon  the  effects  -which  they  tend  to 
1  Abbott's  translation,  p.  311. 


106  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

produce,  and  if  it  is  true  that  the  feeling  of  obliga- 
tion may  be  connected  with  the  ideas  of  acts  which 
do  not  produce  such  effects,  then  an  erring  con- 
science is  not  a  chimera.  Ignorance,  inexperience, 
and  superstition  may  cause  acts  to  be  clothed  with 
the  authority  of  the  law  which  succeeding  genera- 
tions may  stamp  with  their  disapproval.  Then 
again,  conditions  may  change  and  make  new  evalua- 
tions necessary.  The  conscience  of  the  race  repre- 
sents the  experience  of  the  race,  and  grows  as  the 
latter  grows.  But  the  race  conscience  develops 
slowly,  and  may  be  outstripped  by  the  individual 
conscience.  An  individual  conscience  may  be  in 
advance  of  its  age;  it  may  feel  bound  to  forms  of 
conduct  which  the  future  will  adopt.  Every  great 
moral  reformer  who  has  been  persecuted  for  con- 
science' sake  was  in  advance  of  his  times.1 
"  Can  conscience  be  educated?  If  our  standpoint 
is  correct,  it  can.  Indeed,  a  man's  conscience  is 
largely  the  product  of  education,  as  we  noticed  be- 
fore. Our  teachers,  past  and  present,  surround  the 
ideas  of  certain  acts  with  moral  feelings,  and  so 
educate  us  into  morality.  Even  if  we  regard  con- 
science as  a  form  of  obligation  without  regard  to 
content,  we  must  hold  that  its  existence  depends  on 
training.  The  feeling  of  obligation  will  not  appear 
unless  consciousness  as  a  whole  is  developed. 

Does  conscience  immediately  tell  us  what  is  right 
and  wrong  ?     Not  in  every  instance.     A  member  of 
1  See  Paulsen,  Ethics,  pp.  357  f£. 


ANALYSIS  OF  CONSCIENCE  107 

our  civilization  cannot  help  disapproving  of  certain 
acts  immediately,  the  wrongfulness  of  which  has 
been  impressed  upon  him  from  childhood.  But 
there  are  many  courses  of  conduct  which  baffle  many 
consciences.  We  are  sometimes  in  doubt  as  to  what 
would  really  be  the  dutiful  course  to  pursue,  until 
we  can  bring  the  case  under  a  general  formula. 
The  success  with  which  a  person  judges  the  moral 
worth  of  an  act  will  often  depend  upon  his  ability  to 
refer  it  to  a  class  concerning  which  there  is  no 
doubt. 

11.  Conscience,  and  Inclination.  —  Another  point 
deserves  to  be  considered,  ffant  teaches  that  such 
acts  are  mnra.1  a.s  are  done  from  a  sense  of  duty^  from 
a  resect  for  the  moral  law. 


from  inclination  have  no  moral  worth.  If  you  do 
good  from  a  love  of  it,  there  is  no  merit  in  your  act. 
If  you  delight  in  being  kind  to  others,  and  help 
them  because  you  love  them,  you  are  not  moral.  If, 
however,  you  have  no  such  inclination,  or  if  you 
have  an  antipathy  against  doing  it,  and  still  aid 
others  from  a  sense  of  duty,  then  you  are  moral.1 

Of  course,  in  a  matter  of  this  kind  everything 
depends  upon  one's  standpoint.  If  the  criterion  of 
morality  is  the  sense  of  duty,  or  obligation,  then,  to 
be  sure,  no  act  can  be  moral  that  is  not  prompted  by 
reverence  for  the  law.  But  it  is  begging  the  entire 
question  to  insist  upon  this  thesis.  Do  we  really 
call  only  such  acts  moral  as  are  held  by  Kant  to  be 
1  See  Kant's  Metaphysik  der  Sitten. 


108  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

moral?  If  we  do,  we  must  regard  as  moral  the 
murderer  who  acts  from  a  sense  of  duty.  No,  Kant 
would  object,  you  cannot  call  the  murderer  moral, 
nor  can  he  call  himself  moral,  because  he  cannot 
will  that  his  conduct  become  universal  law.  Well, 
we  ask,  why  not  ?  Why  cannot  he  will  that  the 
killing  of  tyrants  become  universal,  so  long  as  it  is 
prompted  by  a  sense  of  duty  ?  Besides,  Kant  here 
introduces  a  new  principle  or  criterion  :  the  fitness 
of  the  act  to  become  a  universal  maxim.  First  he 
says  that  an  act  is  moral  when  it  is  prompted  by  the 
sense  of  duty,  then  he  tells  me  to  "  act  only  on  that 
maxim  whereby  thou  canst  at  the  same  time  will 
that  it  should  become  a  universal  law."  If  he  ad- 
heres to  the  first  proposition,  the  murderer  is  moral ; 
if  to  the  second,  then  the  sense  of  duty  is  not  the 
criterion  ;  if  to  both,  we  have  either  a  contradiction 
or  two  criteria  which  must  be  harmonized  in  some 
way.1 

The  main  thing,  it  seems  to  me,  is  that  a  man  do 
the  right.  Now,  if  he  does  it  from  inclination, 
because  he  loves  to  do  it,  why  should  he  not  be 
adjudged  moral?  Spencer  believes  that  the  time 
will  come  when  the  sense  of  duty  or  moral  obliga- 
tion will  pass  away.  "  The  observation  is  not  infre- 
quent," he  says,  "that  persistence  in  performing  a 

1  For  criticism  of  the  Kantian  view,  see  Paulsen,  Ethics,  pp. 
350  ff.;  Janet,  Theory  of  Morals,  Bk.  Ill,  chap,  v  ;  Mackenzie, 
Manual  of  Ethics,  chap,  iv  ;  Muirhead,  Elements  of  Ethics,  §  56  ; 
Bradley,  Ethical  Studies,  IV, 


ANALYSIS  OF  CONSCIENCE  109 

duty  ends  in  making  it  a  pleasure ;  and  this  amounts 
to  the  admission  that,  while  at  first  the  motive  con- 
tains an  element  of  coercion,  at  last  this  element  of 
coercion  dies  out,  and  the  act  is  performed  without 
any  consciousness  of  being  obliged  to  perform  it."1 
It  is  evident,  then,  that  "  that  element  in  the  moral 
consciousness  which  is  expressed  by  the  word  obliga- 
tion will  disappear."  However  this  may  be,  I  see  | 
no  reason  why  a  man  should  be  called  non-moral 
because  he  loves  to  do  the  right. 

Of  course,  the  feeling  of  obligation,  the  feeling 
that  an  act  ought  to  be  performed,  will  be  a  great 
incentive  to  the  doing  of  it,  and  possibly  owes  its  ex- 
istence to  this  fact.  A  man  in  whom  this  sentiment 
is  very  strong  will  do  the  right  in  the  face  of  the 
strongest  temptations,  provided,  of  course,  the  feeling 
is  connected  with  right  actions.  It  is  an  excellent 
reenforcer  of  morality  ;  it  pushes  itself  in  between 
the  desire  to  violate  the  law  and  the  desire  to  obey 
it,  and  helps  the  latter  to  gain  the  victory.  Human- 
ity instinctively  recognizes  this  truth.  In  times  of 
moral  degeneracy,  reformers  point  out  the  danger 
of  listening  to  the  seductive  voice  of  inclination, 
and  appeal  to  the  sense  of  duty.  It  is  also  to  be 
observed  that  we  love  conflict,  and  admire  the  man 
who  struggles.  There  is  nothing  dramatic  in  an 

1  Data  of  Ethics,  p.*  128.  Aristotle,  Ethics,  Bk.  I,  chap,  x: 
"For  it  may  be  added  that  a  person  is  not  good  if  he  does  not  take 
delight  in  noble  "actions,  as  nobody  would  call  a  person  just  if  he 
did  not  take  delight  in  just  actions,"  etc. 


110  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

even,  quiet  life  that  .is  free  from  storms  of  passion 
and  temptation.  But  the  sense  of  duty  does  not 
play  the  role  in  life  which  moralists  of  Kant's 
pietistic  training  assign  to  it.  Life  is  not  a  con- 
tinuous conflict  between  our  inclinations,  desires, 
or  impulses,  and  the  sense  of  duty.  If  it  were,  it 
would  soon  consume  itself.  Men  do  not  do  every- 
thing from  a  sense  of  duty,  or  because  they  feel  that 
they  must.  Men  are  trained  to  righteousness,  and 
then  act  from  force  of  habit.  Where  the  training 
is  complete,  character  is  formed,  and  acts  follow 
from  character.  The  conflicts  which  Kant  regards 
as  forming  the  very  essence  of  character  are  rare 
in  a  healthy  moral  life.  A  good  man  does  not  have 
to  call  out  the  inner  police  force  every  time  he  acts. 
An  appeal  to  authority  is  not  always  necessary  in 
his  case.  The  "thou  shalt"  is  superseded  by  the 
"  I  will,"  and  the  rule  of  law  gives  way  to  the 
rule  of  love.1 

Many  men  form  ideals  of  conduct,  that  is,  reach 
certain  general  principles,  which  aim  to  give  their 
life  a  unity.  The  ideal  is  like  the  flag  that  leads 
the  hosts  to  battle.  It  may  be  followed  for  many 
reasons,  from  love,  or  from  a  sense  of  obligation,  or 

1  See  Spencer,  Inductions,  p.  338 ;  Miinsterberg,  Ursprung 
der  Sittlichkett,  last  chapter;  Wundt,  Eihik,  Part  III,  chap,  iii: 
"Whereas  a  moral  law  which  demands  that  the  good  be  done 
without  inclination,  i.e.,  without  motives,  asks  more  than  can  be 
accomplished,  it  is,  on  the  contrary,  the  genuine  mark  of  the 
mature  character  to  perform  the  moral  act,  without  deliberation, 
from  pure  inclination." 


ANALYSIS  OF  CONSCIENCE  111 

from  force  of  habit.  I  compare  my  acts  with  this 
ideal  and  may  feel  obliged  to  perform  those  agreeing 
with  it,  or  I  may  do  them  from  love.  Often  a  line 
of  reasoning  is  required  to  discover  the  acts  which 
are  necessary  to  the  realization  of  my  ideal. 

12.  The  Historical  View  and  Morality. — In  conclu- 
sion, I  should  like  to  consider  an  objection  which  is 
frequently  urged  against  the  historical  view  of  con- 
science by  those  who  regard  the  moral  faculty  as  of 
supernatural  origin.  They  hold  that  to  deny  the 
supernatural  character  of  conscience  is  to  rob  it  of  its 
sacredness  and  authority.  When  we  know  that  and 
how  a  thing  has  originated,  we  are  apt  to  lose  respect 
for  it.  The  knowledge  that  conscience  is  not  a 
descendant  of  the  gods,  but  an  earth-born  child,  a 
plebeian,  so  to  speak,  deprives  it  of  the  respect  neces- 
sary to  make  it  effective,  and  renders  it  less  aweiul 
than  before.  Hence,  these  persons  hold,  the  historical 
view  of  conscience  is  dangerous  to  morality.1 

We  reply  :  (1)  Even  if  all  this  were  so,  it  would 
not  affect  the  truth  of  the  teaching.  Truth  is  one 
thing,  expediency  another. 

(2)  But  why  should  the  belief  that  conscience 
is  a  child  of  nature  and  not  the  direct  voice  of  God 
make  us  lose  respect  for  morality  ?  If  I  believe  in 
God  and  believe  that  He  is  a  good  God,  I  shall  surely 

1  Even  Guyau,  an  evolutionist,  is  of  the  same  opinion:  "The 
scientific  spirit,"  he  says,  *'  is  the  enemy  of  all  instinct ;  it  tends  to 
destroy  the  sense  of  obligation  on  which  instinct  is  based.  Every 
instinct  disappears  upon  consciousness." 


112  INTRODUCTION'  TO  ETHICS 

believe  that  He  is  in  favor  of  the  law,  that  it  is  His 
will  that  I  obey  the  law.  And  what  is  to  hinder  me 
from  believing  that  His  voice  speaks  in  the  experi- 
ence of  the  race,  that  the  voice  of  the  people  is  the 
voice  of  God  in  moral  matters,  that  mankind  ulti- 
mately hit  upon  the  right  and  transmit  their  knowl- 
edge from  generation  to  generation?  When  the 
theory  of  evolution  first  appeared,  it  was  attacked 
as  dangerous  to  morality  and  religion,  on  the  ground 
that  if  man  grew  out  of  simple  beginnings  and  was 
not  directly  created  by  God,  then  there  would  be  no 
need  of  a  God.  We  are  coming  to  understand, 
however,  that  even  if  the  evolutionistic  hypothesis 
should  be  true,  God  could  still  reign.  Why  could 
not  God,  instead  of  having  made  man  out  of  clay 
and  having  breathed  the  breath  of  life  into  his 
nostrils,  have  created  simple  elements  from  which 
a  being  like  man  eventually  had  to  evolve?  The 
latter  belief  is  surely  as  reasonable  as  the  former. 
And  so,  too,  why  can  we  not  believe,  if  we  wish, 
that  God  made  a  universe  which  was  bound  to  pro- 
duce a  human  consciousness  and  a  human  con- 
science ?  Why  should  not  God  let  soul-life  grow 
as  He  lets  plant-life  grow,  and  why  should  we  not 
admire  a  conscience  that  has  been  produced  natu- 
rally as  much  as  we  admire  other  products  of 
nature  ? 

(3)  Even  if  an  insight  into  the  origin  of  the 
ought- feeling  could  lead  to  the  elimination  of  the 
feeling,  would  that  mean  the  overthrow  of  morality  ? 


ANALYSIS  OF  CONSCIENCE  118 

I  do  not  believe  it.  If  the  habitual  performance  of 
good  deeds  ends  in  their  being  done  joyfully,  why 
should  not  a  person  learn  to  do  the  right  because 
he  loves  to  do  it  ?  And  if  he  can  do  it  from  love, 
why  should  the  loss  of  the  sense  of  duty  mean  the 
defeat  of  all  righteousness?  Moreover,  the  man 
who  is  intelligent  enough  to  understand  the  argu- 
ments which  make  for  the  historical  view,  will,  at 
the  same  time,  be  intelligent  enough  to  see  that 
morality  serves  a  purpose  in  the  world,  that  the 
rules  of  conduct  are  not  mere  arbitrary  commands, 
but  that  they  represent  the  necessary  means  of 
human  existence.  And  if  he  believes  that,  why 
should  he  despise  morality?  Nay,  would  he  not 
be  more  inclined  to  uphold  the  right  than  before  ? 
I  believe  that  the  race  could  not  exist  without 
morality,  I  believe  that  I  could  not  live  and  grow 
in  an  environment  in  which  the  laws  of  morality 
are  constantly  broken,  I  believe  that  the  universe 
is  so  arranged  that  immorality  cannot  thrive  in  it  in 
the  long  run,  —  then  why  should  I  become  immoral 
simply  because  I  have  discovered  that  the  voice 
within  me  which  urges  me  in  the  direction  of  the 
right  was  not  made  in  a  day  and  that  it  will  tell  me 
better  things  as  the  world  rolls  on?1 

1  Sidgwick,  Methods  of  Ethics :  "  The  Utilitarian  must  repudiate 
altogether  that  temper  of  rebellion  against  the  established  morality, 
as  something  purely  external  and  conventional,  into  which  the  re- 
flective mind  is  always  apt  to  fall  when  it  is  first  convinced  that  its 
rules  are  not  intrinsically  reasonable.  He  must,  of  course,  also  repu- 
diate as  superstitious  that  awe  of  it  as  an  absolute  or  Divine  code 


114  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

(4)  There  are  no  a  priori  reasons  why  a  person 
who  understands  the  genesis  of  his  moral  nature 
should  lose  it.  Nor  do  the  facts,  which  after  all 
furnish  the  most  important  testimony,  prove  that 
such  is  the  case.  I  do  not  believe  that  the  advo- 
cates of  the  historical  theory,  men  like  the  Mills, 
Darwin,  Spencer,  Wundt,  Hoffding,  and  Paulsen, 
are  less  moral  than  Kant  and  Martineau.  An  in- 
sight into  its  genesis  no  more  destroys  conscience 
than  an  understanding  of  the  psychology  of  courage 
makes  a  man  cowardly,  or  a  knowledge  of  the  con- 
ditions of  sight  and  hearing  makes  a  man  blind  and 
deaf.  It  is  not  an  easy  thing  to  break  down  the 
training  of  a  lifetime.1  It  would  require  system- 
atic efforts  to  loosen  the  association  between  the 

which  intuitional  moralists  inculcate.  (At  the  same  time  this 
sentiment,  which  Kant,  among  others,  has  expressed  with  peculiar 
force,  is  in  no  way  incompatible  with  Utilitarianism :  only  it  must 
not  attach  itself  to  any  subordinate  rules  of  conduct.)  Still,  he 
will  naturally  contemplate  it  with  reverence  and  wonder,  as  a 
marvellous  product  of  nature,  the  result  of  long  centuries  of 
growth,  showing  in  many  parts  the  same  fine  adaptation  of  means 
to  complex  exigencies  as  the  most  elaborate  structures  of  physical 
organisms  exhibit :  he  will  handle  it  with  respectful  delicacy  as  a 
mechanism,  constructed  of  the  fluid  element  of  opinions  and  dispo- 
sitions, by  the  indispensable  aid  of  which  the  actual  quantum 
of  human  happiness  is  continually  being  produced,  a  mechanism 
which  no  '  politicians  or  philosophers '  could  create,  yet  without 
which  the  harder  and  coarser  machinery  of  Positive  Law  could  not 
be  permanently  maintained,  and  the  life  of  man  would  become  — 
as  Hobbes  forcibly  expresses  it  — '  solitary,  poor,  nasty,  brutish, 
and  short.'  " 

1  See  Turgenev's  novels,  New;  Fathers  and  Sons;  and  Dos- 
toievski's  Crime  and  Punishment. 


ANALYSIS  OF  CONSCIENCE  115 

ideas  of  certain  modes  of  conduct  and  the  moral 
sentiments.  Why  should  the  philosopher  who  un- 
derstands the  utility  of  these  feelings  attempt  to 
eradicate  them?  Nay,  will  he  not  rather  seek  to 
develop  and  to  strengthen  them,  to  attach  them 
to  forms  of  conduct  which  his  growing  intelligence 
finds  to  be  the  best? 

Our  philosophical  and  theological  beliefs  have,  as 
Paulsen  points  out,  much  less  influence  on  our 
actions  than  is  commonly  supposed.  Many  men 
who  honestly  believe  in  conscience  as  the  voice  of 
God,  and  who  believe  that  there  is  a  future  life  in 
which  the  just  will  be  rewarded  and  the  unjust  pun- 
ished, act  as  though  they  had  neither  conscience 
nor  fear  of  hell.  Conduct  depends  upon  character, 
character  depends  upon  impulses,  feelings,  and  ideas 
together,  not  on  ideas  alone.  Train  a  child  properly, 
work  moral  habits  into  his  very  nature,  arouse  in 
him  a  fellow-feeling  for  all  mankind,  and  you  may 
turn  him  loose  upon  the  world  without  fear.  If, 
however,  you  tell  him  that  he  must  obey  the  moral 
law  simply  because  it  is  God's  will,  and  for  no  other 
reason,  then,  if  he  ever  loses  his  faith  in  God,  his 
morality  will  be  without  support,  and  he  will  dis- 
regard the  law  simply  to  prove  his  freedom  and 
enlightenment. 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE    ULTIMATE    GROUND    OF    MORAL    DISTINCTIONS  > 

1.  Conscience  as  the  Standard.  —  Our  first  ques- 
tion was,  Why  do  men  judge  or  evaluate  as  they 
do  in  morals?  Why  do  they  call  acts  right  and 
wrong?  We  answered  this  question  psychologi- 
cally, that  is,  we  pointed  out  the  psychical  states 
upon  which  moral  judgment  depends.  We  found 
that  certain  feelings  cluster  around  certain  ideas  of 
acts,  and  that  it  is  in  virtue  of  these  feelings  that 
we  pronounce  moral  judgments.  We  embraced  all 
these  mental  conditions  of  moral  judgment  under 
the  term  conscience,  and  declared  that  men  judge  as 
they  do  because  they  have  a  conscience.  We  also 
examined  the  views  of  the  different  schools  with 
regard  to  the  innateness  of  conscience,  and  came  to 
the  conclusion  that  conscience  is  neither  original 
in  the  human  soul  in  the  sense  in  which  the  intu- 
itionists  take  it,  nor  the  product  of  individual  expe- 
rience, as  their  opponents  hold,  but  that  there  is  an 
element  of  truth  in  both  schools.  We  agreed  with 
the  former  in  saying  that  conscience  is  an  intuition, 
with  the  latter,  that  it  has  an  origin  and  development. 

But  we  are  not  yet  satisfied  with  the  results  which 
we  have  reached.      Men  judge  as  they  do  because 
1  See  references  under  chap.  v. 
116 


THE  CRITERION  OF  MORALITY  117 

they  have  a  conscience.  They  call  an  act  right  or 
wrong  because  conscience  tells  them  so.  But,  we 
ask,  why  does  conscience  tell  them  so?  Why  do 
the  feelings  of  approval  (and  disapproval)  and  the 
ought-feeling  surround  the  ideas  of  certain  acts? 
Because  our  parents  and  teachers,  present  and  past, 
have  made  the  connection  for  us?  But  who  made 
the  connection  for  them?  What  is  the  principle 
which  originally  governed  the  process?  What  is 
the  ultimate  reason  or  ground  why  certain  acts  are 
judged  as  they  are  judged  ?  In  other  words,  what 
is  the  ultimate  ground  of  moral  distinctions,  why  is 
right  right,  and  wrong  wrong?  What  in  the  last 
analysis  makes  it  right  or  wrong  ?  Why  is  it  right 
to  tell  the  truth,  and  wrong  to  lie  and  steal  ? 

2.  The  Theological  View.  —  Simply  because  God 
has  willed  it,  answers  one  school,  which  was  founded 
by  the  mediaeval  schoolmen,  Duns  Scotus  and  Will- 
iam Occam.  God  has  made  the  connection  spoken 
of  before.  Stealing  and  lying  are  wrong  because 
God  has  arbitrarily  decreed  them  to  be  so.  Had 
He,  as  He  might  and  could  have  done,  declared  them 
to  be  right,  then  stealing  and  lying  would  be  right. 
"  God  does  not  require  actions  because  they  are 
good,"  says  the  old  schoolman  Gerson,  "but  they 
are  good  because  He  requires  them;  just  as  others 
are  evil  because  He  forbids  them." 1  We  might,  if  we 
chose,  call  this  the  theological  school. 

1  See  Janet,  Theory  of  Morals,  translated  by  M.  Chapman, 
p.  167  ;  Lecky,  History  of  European  Morals,  pp.  17  ff.  According 


118  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

3.  The  Popular  View.  —  No,  says  another  class  of 
thinkers,  an  act  is  right  or  wrong  intrinsically.     It 
is  absurd  to  ask  why  lying  and  stealing  are  wrong. 
Moral   truths  are  as  self-evident  as  the  axioms  of 
geometry.      We  might  as  well  ask  why  twice  two 
are  four  as  ask  why  stealing  is  wrong.     The  ethical 
rules  are  absolutely  true,  they  are  necessary  truths  ; 
we  cannot  possibly  withhold  our  assent  from  them, 
and  yet  we   cannot   prove   them.      And  as  God  is 
bound   by   the   truths   of   mathematics   and   cannot 
make  twice  two  anything  but  four,  so  He  is  bound 
by  the  moral  law  and  cannot  make  stealing  right.1 
An  act  is  right  or  wrong  because  conscience  tells 
me  so,  and  conscience  tells  me  so  because  it  is  so. 
Behind  the  dicta  of  conscience  we  cannot  go.2     Let 
us  call  this  school  the  popular  or  common-sense  school. 

4.  The  Teleological  View.  —  But  the  scientific  in- 
stinct is  too  strong  in  man  to  be  silenced  by  such 
dogmatic  assertions  as  the   foregoing.     The  philo- 
sophical thinker  demands  reasons,  and  is  not  to  be 
put  off  with  words.     He  is  apt  to  begin  at  the  very 
point  where  the  popular  mind  abandons  the  search 
as  useless  or  impossible.     We  desire  to  know  why 
an  act  is  right,  what  makes  it  right,  and  receive  the 
dogmatic   reply  that  it  is  right  in  itself,  that  it  is 
absolutely  right,  that  there  is  no  reason  for  its  being 

to  Descartes,  the  will  of  God  makes  all  moral  distinctions ;  He  could 
make  good  bad.  See  his  Meditations,  "Answer  to  the  Sixth 
Objection." 

1  See  Thomas  Aquinas  and  his  school. 

a  See  the  rational  intuitionists  discussed  in  chap  ii,  §  3. 


THE  CRITERION  OF  MORALITY  119 

right  beyond  the  fact  that  conscience  dictates  it,  or 
that  it  is  right  because  God  wills  it :  car  tel  est 
son  bon  plaisir !  Now  we  are  willing  to  admit  that 
conscience  dictates  it,  and  that  what  conscience  dic- 
tates is  for  the  time  being  right.  And  we  are  also 
willing  to  admit  that  it  is  the  will  of  God.  But  we 
would  know  why  conscience  speaks  as  it  does,  what 
has  guided  it  in  its  deliverances,  what  is  the  prin- 
ciple or  criterion  or  standard  underlying  its  judg- 
ments. There  must  be  some  ultimate  ground  for 
the  distinctions  which  it  makes.  And  if  God  made 
right  right  and  wrong  wrong,  we  would  know  why 
He  did  it,  why  He  made  stealing  wrong,  what  reason 
He  had  for  doing  it,  what  purpose  He  had  in  view 
when  He  willed  it.  Wherever  we  find  an  instinct 
we  investigate  and  seek  to  explain  it,  to  discover  its 
raison  d'etre  if  it  has  any.  I  ask,  Why  do  we  eat 
and  drink  and  sleep ;  and  you  tell  me  with  a  con- 
temptuous smile,  Because  we  are  hungry  and  thirsty 
and  tired,  which,  though  perfectly  true,  does  not 
answer  my  question  at  all.  I  desire  to  know  the 
raison  d'etre  of  eating  and  drinking  and  sleeping, 
the  purposes  aimed  at  and  realized  by  these  func- 
tions, the  principles  on  which  they  rest. 

5.  Arguments  for  Teleology.  —  Let  us  see  whether 
we  cannot  find  a  reason  for  our  question,  What  is 
the  ultimate  ground  of  moral  distinctions?  Why 
is  it  right  to  tell  the  truth,  and  wrong  to  lie  and 
steal?  The  following  reflections  may  suggest  the 
answer :  — 


120  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

(1)  Every  willed  action  has  some  end   in  view. 
We  desire  to  realize  a  purpose.     Indeed,  all  action 
tends  to  realize  an  end  or  purpose,  even  instinctive 
and  automatic  action.     It  lies  in  the  very  nature  of 
things  that  acts  and  motives  should  produce  results. 
Now  if  human  conduct  is  willed  by  man,  and  if  the 
will  always  aims  at  results,  it  is  to  be  supposed  that 
moral  conduct  aims  at  results,  that  it  realizes  ends 
or  purposes  which  are  desired   by  man.     And  we 
should  not  go  far  amiss  in  saying  that  these  results 
or  effects  are  the  raison  cT$tre,  the  reason  for  exist- 
ence, of  moral  conduct. 

(2)  When  we  reflect  upon  the  modes  of  conduct 
which  our  age  calls  right  and  wrong,  we  find  that 
those  which  are  called  right  or  good  uniformly  pro- 
duce effects  different  from  those  which  are  called 
wrong  or  bad,  and   that  the  effects  of  the  former 
are    preferred,    desired,    and    approved,   while    the 
effects  of  the  latter  are  disliked  and  disapproved. 
Falsehood,  calumny,  theft,  treachery,  murder,  etc., 
produce  results  which  we  call  pernicious  and  evil ; 
truthfulness,  honesty,  loyalty,  benevolence,  justice, 
produce  consequences  of  a  beneficial   nature.     The 
universe  is  so  arranged  that  certain  acts  are  bound 
to  have  certain  effects,  and  human  nature  is  so  con- 
stituted that   some  effects   are   desired   and   others 
hated.     The  act  of  murder  carries   countless  evils 
in  its  train  :  the  destruction  of  the  victim  and  his 
life's  hopes,  feelings  of  grief  and  desires  for  revenge 
in  the  hearts  of  the  related  survivors,  general  sorrow 


THE  CRITERION  OF  MORALITY  121 

and  a  feeling  of  insecurity  in  the  entire  community. 
The  family  of  the  murdered  man  may  also  suffer  ma- 
terial loss  by  the  removal  of  their  supporter,  while 
other  circles  are  indirectly  affected  by  their  misfor- 
tune. The  murderer  himself  cannot  live  the  life 
of  peace  and  security  which  he  enjoyed  before  the 
crime.  He  has  drawn  upon  himself  the  wrath  of 
his  fellows,  not  to  speak  of  the  legal  punishment 
which  may  stare  him  in  the  face.  The  mark  of 
Cain  is  upon  him,  the  blood  of  his  victim  cries  for 
revenge,  men  fear  him  and  hate  him,  and  he  fears 
and  hates  them  in  return.  Such  and  many  kindred 
effects  are  bound  to  follow  the  commission  of  crime 
even  in  the  most  primitive  state  of  society.  And 
it  would  be  impossible  for  men  to  live  together  in 
a  community  in  which  acts  having  such  effects  were 
habitually  practised.  A  society  cannot  thrive  whose 
members  lie  and  steal  and  commit  murder  and  other- 
wise disregard  each  other,  in  which  the  wicked  are 
not  punished  and  wrongs  redressed,  in  which  even 
thieves  and  rascals  fall  out.  Now  would  it  riot  be 
safe  to  assume  that  these  effects,  both  internal  and 
external,  are  the  significant  thing  in  morals  ? 

(3)  We  also  notice  that  whenever  our  conscience 
leaves  us  in  the  lurch,  and  fails  to  indicate  the  proper 
course  to  pursue,  we  frequently  attempt  to  reason 
about  our  conduct.  What,  we  ask  ourselves,  would 
be  the  effect  of  such  and  such  an  act  upon  ourselves 
and  others  and  society  at  large  ?  I  may  fully  approve 
of  a  line  of  action  which  I  have  been  pursuing  and 


122  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

which  everybody  else  commends,  until  some  day 
it  dawns  upon  me  that  my  behavior  is  bound  to 
harm  myself  and  others,  in  which  case  I  alter  my 
judgment.  And  in  urging  others  to  be  moral  we 
frequently  point  out  to  them  the  effects  which 
accompany  both  right-  and  wrong-doing.  We  seem 
to  be  anxious  to  justify  the  law  by  its  effects. 
Saint  Paul  says  :  "  If  thy  brother  be  grieved  with 
thy  meat,  now  walkest  thou  not  charitably.  Destroy 
not  him  with  thy  meat,  for  whom  Christ  died." 
"  It  is  good  neither  to  eat  flesh,  nor  to  drink  wine, 
nor  anything  whereby  thy  brother  stumbleth,  or  is 
offended  or  is  made  weak." 1  That  is,  do  not  do  cer- 
tain things  because  of  the  effect  of  your  example. 
We  also  often  try  to  influence  children,  who  do  not 
always  see  into  the  so-called  self-evidence  of  the 
moral  law,  by  showing  them  the  effects  of  right 
and  wrong.  Moreover,  we  are  sometimes  advised 
to  do  right  on  the  ground  that  God  wills  our  good, 
and  that  this  is  realized  by  the  moral  law. 

(4)  When  we  study  the  morality  of  different 
races  and  ages,  we  observe  that  certain  modes  of 
conduct  are  insisted  on  which  are  especially  adapted 
to  the  conditions,  both  inner  and  outer,  of  the  times. 
Where  men  dwell  together  in  families  or  clans,  and 
care  only  for  those  related  to  them,  the  chief  con- 
cern seems  to  be  to  ward  off  the  attacks  of  other 
families  and  tribes.  In  such  a  state  blood-revenge 
is  a  sacred  duty,  and  disloyalty  to  the  clan  a  heinous 
1  Romans,  xiv,  14-23. 


THE  CRITERION  OF  MORALITY  123 

crime.  In  societies  of  a  larger  growth  surrounded 
by  warlike  neighbors,  obedience  to  authority  and 
martial  courage  are  the  highest  virtues.  Such  acts 
are  commanded  and  judged  as  moral  which  enable 
the  community  to  live  and  to  maintain  and  increase 
its  possessions.  Whatever  hinders  it  from  realizing 
this  purpose  is  condemned.  Child  murder  is  often 
looked  upon  as  legitimate  where  additions  to  the 
membership  of  the  tribe  are  regarded  as  dangerous 
to  its  welfare.  Aged  adults  are  killed  without  com- 
punction when  their  presence  becomes  a  burden. 
Sickly  infants  and  some  of  the  female  offspring  are 
put  to  death  or  exposed  lest  they  hamper  the  tribe 
in  the  struggle  for  life.  For  the  ancient  Greek  as 
well  as  the  ancient  Hebrew,  the  strength  of  the 
State  was  the  all-important  thing.  The  moral  code 
of  such  peoples  embraces  forms  of  conduct  which  we 
shudder  at,  but  which  will  be  found,  upon  investi- 
gation of  all  the  conditions,  to  have  had  their  rea- 
son for  existence.  Men  like  Socrates,  Plato,  and 
Aristotle,  whom  we  may  surely  regard  as  high 
types  of  Grecian  morality,  regarded  as  right  and 
proper  customs  which  we  condemn,  but  which 
seemed  to  them  essential  to  the  existence  of  the 
State.1  Plato  speaks  of  the  exposure  of  children 
with  as  little  concern  as  we  should  feel  at  the  kill- 


1  See  Plato's  Republic;  Aristotle's  Politics;  Mahaffy,  Social 
Life  in  Greece;  Spencer,  Inductions  of  Ethics;  Ree,  Entstehung 
des  Gewissens  ;  Williams,  A  Review  of  Evolutional  Ethics  ;  Suth- 
erland, The  Origin  and  Growth  of  the  Moral  Instinct. 


124  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

ing  of  a  dog.  Aristotle  justifies  slavery  on  the 
ground  of  its  necessity,  and  jestingly  declares  that 
slavery  will  be  abolished  as  soon  as  the  shuttle- 
cocks in  the  looms  begin  to  move  themselves. 

(5)  When  we  investigate  the  subject-matter  of 
the  moral  law,  we  notice  certain  discrepancies 
which  cannot  be  explained  except  on  the  theory 
that  the  effect  of  the  act  is  the  important  thing. 
The  law  says,  Thou  shalt  not  kill  either  thyself  or 
other  human  beings.  It  is  wrong  to  take  human 
life.  And  yet  according  to  the  popular  conscience 
the  State  has  the  right  to  execute  criminals,  and  an 
individual  may  kill  a  fellow  in  self-defence.  Nor  is 
killing  in  war  regarded  as  reprehensible.  It  is  right 
for  a  nation  to  defend  itself  when  attacked,  or  to 
attack  another  nation  that  is  meditating  its  destruc- 
tion. Suicide  is  generally  condemned  as  wrong,  and 
yet  we  do  not  blame  Arnold  von  Winkelried,  who 
gathered  to  his  breast  the  spear-points  of  the  enemy 
in  order  to  open  a  path  for  his  followers. 

The  law  says,  Thou  shalt  not  lie.  But  we  do  not 
find  fault  with  the  physician  for  deceiving  his 
patients  for  their  own  good,  nor  with  the  general 
for  deluding  the  enemy,  nor  with  the  officer  of  the 
law  for  not  always  telling  the  truth  to  the  murderer 
whom  he  wishes  to  entrap. 

In  all  these  cases  modes  of  conduct  are  prohibited 
which  have  certain  harmful  effects.  They  all  repre- 
sent forms  of  action  which  endanger  life.  And  yet 
these  same  modes  of  conduct  are  allowed  in  certain 


THE  CRITERION  OF  MORALITY  125 

instances ;  apparently  because  the  usual  results 
attendant  upon  them  do  not  appear,  or  because  an 
insistence  upon  their  performance  would  have  still 
more  serious  consequences  than  the  abrogation  of 
the  law. 

From  the  above,  it  seems  to  me,  we  may  safely 
infer  that  the  ultimate  ground  of  moral  distinctions 
lies  in  the  effects  which  acts  tend  to  produce.  Such 
acts  as  actually  tend  or  are  believed  to  produce  con- 
sequences desired  by  mankind  come  to  be  regarded 
as  good  or  right,  and  are  enjoined  as  duties,  while 
their  opposites  are  condemned  and  prohibited.  The 
effect  or  end  or  purpose  which  an  act  tends  to  real- 
ize must,  in  the  last  analysis,  be  what  gives  to  it  its 
moral  worth.  It  must  be  this  end  or  purpose  which, 
in  some  way  or  another,  has  prompted  man  to  eval- 
uate as  he  does.  This  it  must  be  which  constitutes 
the  ground  or  principle  or  standard  or  criterion  of 
moral  codes.  In  other  words,  morality  is  a  means  to 
an  end  ;  its  utility  or  purposiveness  is  its  standard. 

6.  Teleological  Schools.  —  Let  us  call  this  view, 
which  regards  the  utility  or  purposiveness  or  tele- 
ology (from  the  Greek  word,  re'Xo?,  telos,  end,  pur- 
pose) of  morality  as  its  ground,  the  ideological 
view.1  According  to  it  such  acts  are  good  or  right 

1  The  Latin  word  for  useful  is  utilis.  We  might  therefore  call 
the  school  which  regards  the  utility  of  conduct  as  the  criterion  of 
its  moral  worth,  the  utilitarian  school.  But,  as  we  shall  see  later 
on,  this  term  has  been  appropriated  by  a  particular  branch  or 
phase  of  the  school.  To  avoid  confusion,  therefore,  we  shall  follow 
the  usage  introduced  by  Paulsen,  and  employ  the  term  teleological. 


126  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

as  tend  to  produce  certain  results  or  effects,  or  to 
realize  a  certain  end.  Here  the  question  naturally 
arises,  What  is  the  end  or  purpose  which  morality 
realizes  or  seeks  to  realize  ?  Different  answers  have 
been  given  :  — 

(1)  Morality  conduces  to  pleasure  or  happiness  ; 
it  is  the  pleasure-giving  quality  of  an  act  that  makes 
it  good.      The   Greek   word   for  pleasure  is   ySovij 
(hedone).     Hence  we  may  call  this  view  the  pleas- 
ure-theory, or  hedonism.1     It  declares  that  acts  are 
good   or  bad   according   as   they   tend   to  produce 
pleasure  or  pain. 

But,  we  ask,  Pleasure  for  whom?  My  pleasure 
or  your  pleasure  ?  (a)  Mine,  say  some.  Acts  are 
good  or  bad  because  they  tend  to  make  me  happy  or 
unhappy.  This  is  egoistic  (from  Greek  €706,  Latin 
0#0  =  I),  or  individualistic  hedonism. 

(5)  No,  say  others,  acts  are  good  or  bad  according 
as  they  tend  to  give  pleasure  or  pain  to  others.  This 
is  Jieteristic  (ere/oo?,  heteros,  other)  or  altruistic  (Latin 
alter,  other),  or  universalistic  hedonism.* 

(2)  According  to  other  teleologists,  the  principle 

1  The  Greek  word  for  happiness  is  evdaipovla   (eudcemonia~). 
Hence  the  theory  is  often  called  eudcemonism. 

2  Called  by  John  Stuart  Mill  utilitarianism.     Mill's  utilitarian- 
ism is  universalistic  hedonism.     He  applies  the  general,  or  generic, 
term  to  a  particular  species,  and  identifies  utilitarianism  with  a 
particular  phase  of  it.    It  is  for  this  reason,  as  we  stated  before, 
that  we  prefer  to  use  the  term  teleology.     The  term  utilitarianism, 
owing  to  Mill's  use  of  it,  means,  in  most  persons'  minds,  univer- 
salistic hedonism,  which,  of  course,  is  not  the  only  possible  teleo- 
logical  school. 


THE  CRITERION  OF  MORALITY  127 

of  morality  is  not  pleasure  or  happiness,  but  the 
preservation  of  life,  "virtuous  activity,'4  welfare, 
development,  progress,  perfection,  realization.  We 
might  call  the  adherents  of  this  school  anti-hedonists, 
or  according  to  their  more  positive  tenets,  vitalists 
(vita,  life),  perfectionists,  realizationists,  or  ener  gists.1 
The  energists  or  perfectionists  hold  that  acts  are 
good  which  tend  to  preserve  and  develop  human  life. 
We  may  have  here,  as  above  :  (a)  egoistic  or  indi- 
vidualistic energism  ;  and  (5)  altruistic  or  univer- 
salistic  energism.  According  to  the  former,  the  end 
of  morality  is  the  preservation  and  development  of 
individual  life  ;  according  to  the  latter,  of  the  life 
of  the  species. 

7.   Summary.  —  The  following  table  attempts  to 
summarize  the  views  mentioned  in  this  chapter  2  :  — 


1  A  term  employed  by  Paulsen,  derived  from  the  Greek 
(energeia),  energy,  work,  action.     The  advocates  of  this  view  are 
also  called  eudaemonists  by  some.     The  word  eudcemonia  means 
happiness,  but  for  Aristotle  and  others  happiness  is  identical  with 
virtuous  activity.     The  different  senses  in  which  this  word  eudce- 
monia  is  used  by  different  writers  often  causes  confusion. 

2  These  views  are  by  no  means,  as  is  usually  supposed,  neces- 
sarily antagonistic  to  each  other.     The   statements,   An  act  is 
right  or  wrong  because  conscience  tells  me  so,  and  An  act  is 
right  or  wrong  because  of  the  effects  it  tends  to  produce,  do  not 
necessarily  exclude  each  other.    They  can  both  be  true.    Similarly, 
the  statements,  An  act  is  right  or  wrong  because  God  wills  it  to 
be  so,  and  An  act  is  right  or  wrong  because  conscience  tells  me 
so,  and  An  act  is  right  or  wrong  because  its  effects  make  it  so, 
can  be  easily  harmonized.     See  chap,  v,  §§  1,  11,  12. 


128 


INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 


WHAT  MAKES  AN  ACT  RIGHT  OR  WRONG  ? 

I 


The  Theological           The  Common-sense 
School                             School 
The  will  of  God                  Conscience 
1                                     1 

The  Teleological 
School 
The  effect  of  the  act 

1 

The  will  of  God,  and  the 
inherent  goodness  or 

What  is  the  effect  ? 
1 

badness  of  the  act                   |~ 

Pleasure 
(Hedonism) 

Perfection 
(Energism) 

r~     "~i 

Whose  pleasure  ? 

1 

Whose  perfection  ? 

Of  self           Of  others 
(Egoistic         (Altruistic 
hedonism)        hedonism) 

Of  self           Of  others 
(Egoistic         (Altruistic 
energism)        energism) 
1                        I 

Of  self  and  others 


Of  self  and  others 


Theologico-Teleological  School :   An  act  is  good  or  bad  because 
God  wills  it,  and  God  wills  it  because  of  its  effects. 


CHAPTER  V 

THE  TELEOLOGICAL   VIEW1 

BEFORE  attempting  to  discuss  the  problems  sug- 
gested in  the  last  chapter,  let  us  examine  a  little 
more  carefully  our  fundamental  thesis  that  the 
moral  worth  of  acts  ultimately  depends  upon  the 
effects  which  they  naturally  tend  to  produce,  and 
consider  some  objections  which  may  be  urged 
against  it. 

1.  Conscience  and  Teleology.  —  When  we  say  that 
the  end  which  morality  subserves  is  its  ground  or 
reason  for  being,  we  do  not  mean  to  imply  that  the 
agent  always  has  the  end  or  purpose  clearly  in 

1  Advocates  of  the  Teleological  View :  Aristotle,  Nicomachean 
Ethics  ;  Butler,  Sermons  upon  Human  Nature ;  Hutcheson,  Inquiry 
into  the  Original  of  Our  Ideas  of  Virtue  and  Beauty  ;  Hume,  Inquiry 
concerning  the  Principles  of  Morals ;  Paley,  Moral  Philosophy ; 
Mill,  Utilitarianism,  chap,  ii ;  Spencer,  Data  of  Ethics,  chaps,  i- 
iii ;  Stephen,  Science  of  Ethics,  chaps,  iv-v ;  Hoffding,  Ethik,  chap, 
vii;  Jhering,  Der  Zweck  im  Eecht,  Vol.  II,  pp.  95  ff.;  Wundt, 
Ethics,  Part  III,  chaps,  ii-iv;  Paulsen,  Ethics,  pp.  222  ff.;  Suther- 
land, The  Moral  Instinct,  especially  Vol.  II,  pp.  32  ff. ;  and  all  the 
thinkers  mentioned  in  next  two  chapters.  Opponents  of  the  Tele- 
ological View :  Kant,  Metaphysik  der  Sitten,  Abbott's  translation, 
pp.  9  ff. ;  Lecky,  History  of  European  Morals,  chap,  i ;  Bradley, 
Ethical  Studies ;  Martineau,  Types,  Vol.  II ;  Spencer,  Social  Stat- 
ics, first  edition. 

K  •  129 


130  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

view.1  We  have  already  pointed  out  in  our  chapter 
on  conscience  that  he  pronounces  judgment  upon 
an  act  immediately  or  instinctively,  so  to  speak,  that 
he  calls  the  act  right  or  wrong  because  his  con- 
science tells  him  so.  He  may  not  be  conscious  of 
the  utility  of  the  act  which  he  approves  or  feels  him- 
self obliged  to  perform.  Our  theory  does  not  at  all 
assert  that  he  performs  acts  because  of  their  effects. 
Moral  acts  are  not  necessarily  prompted  by  the  con- 
scious desire  on  part  of  the  doer  to  produce  certain 
consequences.  We  eat  without  being  conscious  of 
the  utility  of  eating  and  without  intending  to  pre- 
serve our  bodies,  but  because  we  feel  hungry.  Still, 
we  may  say,  and  have  the  right  to  say,  that  the  tak- 
ing of  nourishment  produces  beneficial  results,  and 
that  these  constitute  the  reason  or  ground  for  our 
taking  food.2  There  is  no  contradiction  whatever 
between  the  statement  that  we  call  stealing  wrong 
because  we  feel  it  to  be  wrong,  or  because  conscience 
tells  us  so,  and  the  statement  that  stealing  is  wrong 
because  of  its  effects.  In  the  former  case  we  give 
the  psychological  reason  or  ground  for  the  wrongness 


1  See  Stephen,  The  Science  of  Ethics,  chap,  iv,  ii,  "  The  Moral 
Law."     See  also  supra,  p.  72,  note  3. 

2  See  Williams,  A  Review  of  Evolutional  Ethics,  pp.  326  ff. 
See  Butler,  Human  Nature:  "It  may  be  added  that  as  persons 
without  any  conviction  from  reason  of  the  desirableness  of  life, 
would  yet,  of  course,  preserve  it  merely  from  the  appetite  of 
hunger ;  so,  by  acting  merely  from  regard  (suppose)  to  reputation, 
without  any  consideration  of  the  good  of  others,  men  often  con- 
tribute to  public  good." 


THE  TELEOLOGICAL    VIEW  131 

of  the  act ;  in  the  latter  we  point  out  the  real 
reason. 

It  is  just  as  easy  and  just  as  hard,  in  the  last  analy- 
sis, to  explain  why  we  should  perform  certain  acts 
without  being  conscious  of  their  utility,  why  we 
should  feel  obliged  to  pursue  certain  modes  of  con- 
duct, the  purpose  of  which  turns  out  to  be  useful, 
without  being  conscious  of  their  purposiveness,  as  it  is 
to  tell  why  animals  should  feel  impelled  to  do  the  very 
things  which  they  ought  to  do  in  order  to  preserve 
life,  without  knowing  anything  of  the  end  or  pur- 
pose realized  by  their  impulses.  The  attempts  which 
have  been  made  to  account  for  this  apparently  pre- 
established  harmony  in  the  latter  case  greatly  resem- 
ble those  employed  to  explain  the  former.  According 
to  some,  God  has  implanted  certain  ideas  and  feelings 
in  the  soul  of  the  bird  for  the  purpose  of  enabling 
it  to  do  what  it  does.  It  knows  what  is  good  for  it, 
because  God  has  given  it  a  faculty  of  knowing  it. 
Others  simply  declare  that  instincts  are  innate  ca- 
pacities for  acting  in  a  certain  useful  way.  Still 
others  try  to  explain  them  as  the  results  of  a  long 
line  of  development,  as  products  of  evolution ;  but 
in  every  case  the  utility  of  the  instinct  is  confessed 
to  be  the  ground  of  the  animal's  possessing  it. 

The  fact  that  conscience  prescribes  acts  which  are 
useful,  without  knowing  of  their  usefulness,  is  ac- 
counted for  in  the  same  ways,  as  we  have  already 
seen.1  According  to  some,  God  has  given  us  a 
1  See  chap.  ii. 


132  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

faculty  by  means  of  which  we  immediately  discover 
useful  acts.1  We,  however,  prefer  to  say,  as  we  said 
before,  that  conscience  is  a  development,  and  grows 
with  its  environment.  The  race  learns  by  experience 
that  certain  acts  make  happy  and  peaceful  living  to- 
gether impossible,  while  others  tend  to  create  relations 
of  harmony  and  good  will,  and  gradually  evolves  a 
code  of  morals  which,  in  a  measure  at  least,  tends  to 
preservation  or  happiness,  or  whatever  the  end  may 
be.  These  modes  of  conduct,  which  must  be  strictly 
enforced,  become  habitual  or  customary,  and  are  sur- 
rounded with  the  feelings  —  all  the  way  from  fear 
of  retaliation  to  pure  obligation  —  which  we  noticed 
before.2  By  the  side  of  these  feelings,  which  are 
more  or  less  intense  and  easily  hold  the  attention, 
the  real  purpose  of  the  rules  is  lost  sight  of.  Of 
course,  it  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  primitive  soci- 
eties carefully  reasoned  out  the  possible  effects  of 
certain  conduct  and  then  adopted  a  particular  end 
or  purpose  by  an  act  of  parliament.  But  we  may 
imagine,  I  believe,  that  the  primitive  man  had  sense 
enough  to  find  out  when  he  was  hurt,  and  when  he 
hurt  some  one  else,  and  that  in  order  to  live  at  all 
every  one  had  to  have  some  regard  for  every  one 
else.  Humanity  did  not  solve  the  problem  of  adapt- 

1  Thus,  Hutcheson  says:  "Certain  feelings  and  acts  are  intui- 
tively recognized  as  good ;  we  have  a  natural  sense  of  immediate 
excellence,  and  this  is  a  supernaturally  derived  guide.    All  these 
feelings  and  acts  agree  in  one  general  character,  —  of  tending  to 
happiness."     See  also  Paley,  Moral  Philosophy. 

2  See  chap.  iii. 


THE  TELEOLOGICAL    VIEW  133 

ing  itself  to  its  surroundings  in  a  day ;  indeed,  it  is 
far  from  having  mastered  the  subject  even  in  the 
enlightened  present. 

The  objection,  then,  that  individuals  are  not  always 
conscious  of  the  ultimate  ground  of  moral  distinc- 
tions1 does  not  affect  our  theory  at  all.  We  can 
without  difficulty  explain  both  the  immediacy  with 
which  moral  judgments  are  uttered,  and  the  igno- 
rance of  the  agent  with  reference  to  the  end  or  pur- 
pose upon  which  the  law  is  based. 

2.  Categorical  and  Hypothetical  Imperatives.  — 
Closely  connected  with  this  objection  is  the  one 
that  the  teleological  theory  cannot  explain  the  abso- 
luteness of  the  moral  law.  The  law,  it  is  asserted, 
commands  categorically  or  unconditionally,  Thou 
shalt,  Thou  shalt  not ;  and  is  apparently  utterly 
regardless  of  ends  or  effects  or  experience.  We 
answer,  in  the  first  place,  that  the  so-called  categori- 
cal imperative  is  the  expression  in  language  of  the 
feeling  of  obligation  within  us,  which  speaks  per- 
emptorily, and  that  when  we  have  explained  this 
feeling  we  have  explained  the  categorical  impera- 
tive. Secondly,  the  teleological  view  will  have  to 
regard  this  imperative  in  the  same  light  in  which  it 
views  all  imperatives  or  rules  or  commands  or  pre- 
scriptions. The  claim  of  the  teleological  school  is 
that  acts  are  good  or  bad,  right  or  wrong,  according 
to  the  effects  which  they  tend  to  produce.2  Stealing, 

1  See  first  edition  of  Spencer's  Social  Statics. 

2  See,  for  example,  Mill's  Utilitarianism,  p.  9. 


134  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

lying,  murder,  cruelty,  are  wrong  because  they  pro- 
duce effects  quite  different  from  honesty,  kindness, 
benevolence,  etc.  Mofa1r^ralegJJ.ike  all  other  rules, 
have  a  purpose  in  view, 


act~iiL-Qrder  that  an_end-  may--b£-j£aciied.  When 
the  physician  prescribes  for  you  he  lays  down  certain 
rules,  the  purpose  or  object  of  which  is  the  restora- 
tion of  your  health.  These  prescriptions  may  be 
reduced  to  the  hypothetical  form,  as  follows:  If 
you  would  get  well,  do  thus  or  so.  Though  the 
physician's  imperatives  are  peremptory  or  uncondi- 
tional or  categorical  (as  Kant  would  say)  in  form, 
though  he  may  give  no  reason  for  them,  they  are 
virtually  hypothetical  in  meaning.  Thri  snmn  moy 
be  said  of  the  mor^imperatives.^^Tfeey~-are  .cate- 
gorical in  form  :  Thou  shalt  not  steal  ;  and  hypo- 
thetical in  meaning  :  If  thou  dost  not  desire  certain 
consequences.  The  command,  Do  not  steal,  is  not 
groundless  or  absolute  or  unconditional,  as  its  form 
would  indicate;  its  reason  or  ground,  though^  not 
explicitly  stated,  is  implied  :  because  stealing  tends 
to  bring  about  certain  effects. 

3.  Actual  Effects  and  Natural  Effects.  —  Again, 
the  objector  declares,  the  moral  worth  of  an  act  is 
not  dependent  upon  its  effects  ;  nay,  it  is  either  good 
or  bad  utterly  regardless  of  its  results.1  Even 
though,  owing  to  peculiar  circumstances,  the  assassi- 
nation of  a  tyrant  may,  all  things  considered,  pro- 
duce good  effects,  and  the  performance  of  a  kind 
1  See  Kant  and  Martineau,  chap.  ii. 


THE  TELEOLOGICAL    VIEW  135 

deed   do   the   opposite,  still   murder   is   wrong  and 
benevolence   right.1 

Very  true,  we  should  say.  We  do  not  maintain  that 
an  act  is  right  or  wrong  because  of  the  effects  which 
it  actually  produces  in  a  particular  case,  but  because 
of  the  effects  which  it  naturally  tends  to  produce. 
Arsenic  is  a  fatal  poison  because  it  naturally  tends 
to  cause  death.  Sometimes  the  usual  effect  fails  to 
appear,  but  we  say  that  this  is  exceptional,  and  still 
regard  arsenic  as  a  fatal  poison.  Falsehood,  cal- 
umny, theft,  treachery,  and  murder  naturally  tend 
to  produce  evil  effects,  and  are  therefore  wrong.  It 
lies  in  the  very  nature  of  these  modes  of  conduct  to 
do  harm.  The  universe  is  so  arranged  that  certain 
acts  are  bound  to  have  certain  effects,  and  human 
nature  is  so  constituted  that  some  effects  are  desired, 
others  despised.  Now  whether  we  assume  that  God 
directly  gave  to  man  certain  laws,  the  observance  of 
which  enables  him  to  reach  ends  desired  by  him,  or 
whether  we  assume  that  man  discovered  them  himself, 
the  fact  remains,  that  morality  realizes  a  purpose,  and 
that  this  purpose  is  the  ground  for  its  existence. 

1  Cardinal  Newman  says:  "The  Church  holds  that  it  were 
better  for  sun  and  moon  to  drop  from  the  heavens,  for  the  earth  to 
fail,  and  for  all  the  many  millions  who  are  upon  it  to  die  of  starva- 
tion in ,  extremest  agony,  so  far  as  temporal  affliction  goes,  than 
that  one  soul,  I  will  not  say  should  be  lost,  but  should  commit  one 
single  venial  sin,  should  tell  one  wilful  untruth,  though  it  harmed 
no  one,  or  steal  one  poor  farthing  without  excuse." — Anglican 
Difficulties,  p.  190.  Compare  with  this  Fichte's  statement,  "I 
would  not  break  my  word  even  to  save  humanity." 


136  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

Besides,  it  would  be  very  difficult  to  prove  that 
the  slaying  of  the  tyrant  had  no  evil  effects,  and  the 
benevolent  deeds  no  good  ones.  Human  nature  is 
so  constituted  that  the  commission  of  a  crime  like 
murder  cannot  fail  to  do  harm.  The  experience  of 
mankind  shows  that  the  results  of  such  a  deed  are 
baneful,  and  you  can  hardly  prove  that  they  will 
be  absent  in  a  particular  case.  Who  can  say  that 
the  murder  of  Julius  Caesar,  or  of  Alexander  II  of 
Russia,  or  even  of  Caligula,  was  a  blessing  ?  Who 
would  be  willing  to  live  in  a  society  in  which  even 
the  killing  of  tyrannical  governors  became  the  rule  ? 

4.  A  Hypothetical  Question  Answered.  —  But,  the 
common-sense  moralist  insists,  even  though  murder 
and  theft  naturally  tended  to  produce  effects  oppo- 
site to  those  which  they  now  produce,  they  would 
still  be  wrong.  The  teleologist  would  answer  :  I 
cannot  imagine  such  a  state  of  affairs  in  a  world  con- 
stituted like  ours.  As  things  go  here,  these  forms  of 
conduct  cannot  help  producing  effects  which  human- 
ity condemns.  Still,  for  the  sake  of  argument,  I 
will  suppose  your  case.  And  let  me  first  ask  you  a 
question.  Would  charity  and  honesty  and  loyalty 
and  truthfulness  still  be  virtues  if  they  led  to  the 
overthrow  of  the  world,  if  they  caused  sorrow  and 
suffering,  if  they  destroyed  the  life  and  progress  and 
happiness  of  mankind  ?  It  does  not  seem  plausible, 
does  it  ?  If  murder  and  theft  and  falsehood  really 
tended  to  produce  opposite  effects,  mankind  would 
not  have  condemned  them.  If  murder  were  life- 


THE  TELEOLOG1CAL    VIEW  137 

giving  instead  of  death-dealing,  it  would  no  longer 
be  murder,  that  is  all.  Moreover,  were  mankind  so 
constituted  as  to  prefer  death  to  life,  it  would  not 
insist  upon  acts  which  make  life  and  happiness 
possible. 

5.  Morality  and  Prosperity.  —  Yet   if  your  view 
is  correct,  our  opponents  assert,  then  the  most  moral 
man   and   the  most   moral   nation   should   live  and 
thrive.     But  is  this  always  the  case  ?     Nay,  is  not 
the  reverse  true  ? 1     We  can  answer,  that,  generally 
speaking,  obedience  to  the  laws  of  morality  insures 
life  and  happiness,  and   that  "  the  wages   of  sin   is 
death."     But,  just  as  a  man  who  observes  the  rules 
of  hygiene  may  become  sick  and  die,  so  a  moral  indi- 
vidual and  a  moral  nation  may  perish.    Eating  tends 
to  preserve  life,  but  yet  eating  men  die.     An  earth- 
quake .may  swallow  the  most  moral  community  in 
existence,  and  still  its   morality   was  the  condition 
of  its  peaceful  and  happy  life. 

6.  Imperfect    Moral    Codes.  —  If    utility    is    the 
criterion  of  morality,  why  do  we  find  so  many  harm- 
ful and  indifferent  acts  enjoined  in  the  moral  codes 
of  peoples  ?     Why  do  men  adhere  with  such  tenacity 
to   customs   which,  so  far   as  we   can   see,  have   no 
raison  d'etre  ? 

We   answer  :    (a)  Certain   acts   were   believed  to 

have  good  effects,  and  so  came  to  be  invested  with 

the   authority  of  the  law  ;  others  were  believed  to 

have  bad  effects,  and  were  prohibited.     As  we  said 

1  Gallwitz,  Problem  der  Ethik  in  der  Gfegenwart. 


138  INTRODUCTION'  TO  ETHICS 

before,  ignorance  and  superstition  play  an  important 
part  in  the  making  of  moral  codes.  If  human 
beings  were  all- wise  and  unprejudiced,  the  code 
might  perhaps  be  perfect ;  but  as  men  are  fallible, 
they  cannot  solve  the  problems  of  morality  with 
absolute  perfection.  The  belief  in  invisible  powers 
led  to  many  superstitious  practices  which  we  should 
call  immoral,  but  which  were  imagined  to  be  pro- 
ductive of  good  to  the  race.  Many  tribes  offered 
human  sacrifices  to  their  gods,  who  reflected  the 
moral  nature  of  their  chiefs,  in  order  to  satisfy  the 
hunger  of  the  deities,  to  appease  their  wrath,  or  to 
gain  their  good  will.1  After  such  practices  have 
once  become  customary,  they  are  clothed  with  the 
authority  of  conscience,  and  felt  to  be  right.  The 
Hindoo  mother  who  throws  her  children  into 
the  river  or  is  buried  alive  in  the  grave  of  her  hus- 
band obeys  the  law  of  her  tribe,  and  believes  that 
somehow  some  good  is  going  to  come  of  it. 

(5)  Where  we  have  a  low  grade  of  intelligence 
in  nations,  we  are  apt  to  have  what  we  of  the  pres- 
ent would  call  a  low  grade  of  morality.  And 
similarly,  where  we  have  the  feeling  of  sympathy 
undeveloped,  we  find  modes  of  conduct  which  are 
abhorrent  to  a  person  of  wider  and  deeper  sympa- 
thies. Certain  cruel  practices  are  due  to  this  fact. 
When  the  race  grows  more  intelligent  and  its  sym- 

1  See  Paulsen,  Introduction  to  Philosophy,  p.  266 ;  Spencer, 
Inductions  of  Ethics  ;  Williams,  Evolutional  Ethics;  Ke"e,  Entsteh* 
ung  des  Gewissens. 


THE  TELEOLOGICAL    VIEW  139 

pathy  widens,  old  forms  of  conduct  are  repudiated 
and  new  ones  adopted. 

(<?)  Conditions,  inner  and  outer,  change  and  make 
acts  harmful  or  harmless,  which  were  once  not  so. 
The  race,  however,  is  conservative,  and  clings  to  the 
old  forms  from  force  of  habit  and  because  the  moral 
sentiments  which  cluster  around  them  cannot  be 
eradicated  all  at  once.  Just  as  there  are  laws  on 
our  statute  books  which  once  served  a  useful  pur- 
pose, but  are  now  ineffective  and  even  harmful,  so 
there  are  laws  inscribed  on  the  hearts  of  men  which 
have  lost  their  reason  for  existence.  The  orthodox 
Jew  is  taught  to  feel  a  certain  moral  reverence  for 
customs  which  were  rational  for  the  time  and  place 
where  they  originated,  but  whose  usefulness  is  gone. 

7.  Moral  Reform.  —  But  perhaps  the  end  realized 
by  the  several  moral  codes  of  peoples  is  not  a  truly 
moral  one,  you  say ;  perhaps  their  morality  is  not  the 
true  morality.  Very  true,  we  answer,  but  it  is  not 
our  purpose  to  give  to  the  world  a  brand  new  moral 
code,  but  to  interpret  the  codes  already  existing. 
It  is  the  business  of  a  scientific  ethics  to  study  the 
morality  that  is,  to  investigate  the  rules  of  conduct 
which  men  feel  as  moral,  and  discover  the  principle 
which  gave  rise  to  them.  If  we  find  that  there  is 
such  a  principle  and  that  men  tacitly  assent  to  it, 
we  shall  understand  the  genesis  of  morals.  We  shall 
be  able  to  see  where  men  have  bungled  in  their  blind 
attempts  to  apply  the  principle,  and  we  shall  be  able 
to  distinguish  more  intelligently  between  the  right 


140  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

and  the  wrong.  After  \ve  have  found  the  ideal  which 
is  vaguely  guiding  the  destinies  of  mankind,  we  of 
the  present  time  can  ask  ourselves  whether  we  are 
really  realizing  it  in  our  conduct.  We  cannot,  how- 
ever, lay  down  the  law  to  the  world,  nor  can  we 
evaluate  the  existing  codes  of  morality,  without  hav- 
ing a  principle  or  criterion  by  which  to  test  it.  If 
we  make  conscience  the  criterion,  that  is,  our  own 
individual  conscience,  we  are  bound  to  speak  dog- 
matically, and  must  concede  the  same  right  to  other 
consciences.  We  can  never  obtain  the  consensus 
hominum  for  our  rules  unless  we  can  justify  them 
by  means  of  a  principle  which  everybody  tacitly 
accepts. 

8.  The  Ultimate  Sanction  of  the  Moral  Law.  —  But, 
we  are  asked  by  another  objector,  what  validity  has 
this  principle  of  yours?  You  say  that  an  act  is 
good  or  bad  because  it  produces  effects  desired  or 
not  desired  by  men.  Why  do  men  desire  these 
effects?  Why  do  they  prefer  certain  effects  to 
others?  And  why  do  they  feel  bound  to  bring 
about  certain  ones  and  to  refrain  from  causing 
others?  You  say  that  morality  is  a  means  to  an 
end,  that  the  moral  laws  are  grounded  on  their 
utility.  Suppose  we  grant  it,  suppose  we  justify 
the  particular  rules  by  the  fact  that  they  serve  a 
purpose.  But  how  are  we  to  justify  this  end  or 
purpose  itself? 

We  cannot  answer.  We  regard  certain  acts  as 
good  or  bad  because  they  tend  to  produce  certain 


THE  TELEOLOGICAL    VIEW  141 

effects  or  to  realize  a  certain  end  or  ideal.  These 
effects,  this  end,  this  ideal,  are  desired  by  men  abso- 
lutely. We  can  give  no  reason  for  the  fact  that 
man  prefers  life  to  death  or  happiness  to  unhap- 
piness.  We  can  understand  why  having  certain 
impulses  he  should  come  to  develop  modes  of  conduct 
which  tend  to  realize  them.  But  why  he  should 
desire  what  he  desires  is  a  mystery  which  we  can- 
not solve.  Here  we  have  reached  the  bed-rock  of 
our  science,  here  we  have  a  true  categorical  impera- 
tive which  commands  absolutely  and  unconditionally.1 
9.  Motives  and  Effects.  —  The  point  is  also  raised 
that  we  call  a  man  good  in  spite  of  the  evil  effects 
which  his  acts  naturally  tend  to  produce,  when 
his  motives  are  good.  If  the  effects  constituted 
the  measure  of  worth,  it  is  held,  then  the  agent 
would  be  called  bad  regardless  of  his  motives. 


1  Hume,  Inquiry  concerning  the  Principles  of  Morals,  Appendix 
I,  v :  "It  appears  evident  that  the  ultimate  ends  of  human  actions 
can  never,  in  any  case,  be  accounted  for  by  reason,  but  recom- 
mend themselves  entirely  to  the  sentiments  and  affections  of  man- 
kind, without  any  dependence  on  the  intellectual  faculties.  Ask  a 
man  why  he  uses  exercise ;  he  will  answer,  because  he  desires  to 
keep  his  health  ;  if  you  then  inquire  why  he  desires  health,  he  will 
readily  reply,  because  sickness  is  painful.  If  you  push  your  in- 
quiries farther,  and  desire  a  reason  why  he  hates  pain,  it  is  impos- 
sible he  can  ever  give  any.  This  is  an  ultimate  end,  and  is  never 
referred  to  any  other  object.  Something  must  be  desirable  on  its 
own  account,  and  because  of  its  immediate  accord  or  agreement 
with  human  sentiment  and  affection."  See  Paulsen,  Ethics,  espe- 
cially p.  249 ;  Spencer,  Data  of  Ethics,  chap,  iii,  §  9 ;  Sigwart, 
Vorfragen '  der  Ethik,  pp.  11  f . ;  Logic,  II,  pp.  529  ff.  See  also 
§  9  (c),  §  12,  and  beginning  of  chap.  vi. 


142  INTRODUCTION'  TO  ETHICS 

"We  judge  always  the  inner  spring  of  action,  as 
distinguished  from  its  outward  operation,"  says 
Martineau;  or,  as  BfacTteg  puts  it,1>ilA££&Jj^-ecr"far 
as^they  spring  froni^^go^^  ™"]1  arft  goH  "  And 
(KairtpJiolds,  "  Nothing*  can  possibly  be  conceived 
in^the  world,  or  even  out  of  it.  which  can  be  called 
gpgd  without  qualification,  except  a  Good.  ..Will  .  '  ' 
"  A.  good  will  is  good  not  because  of  what  it  per- 
forms or  effects,  nntJby  its  aptness  jor  the  attain- 
mefttixLa,  proposed  end,  but  simplyjb^  virtue  of  the 
v,Qlition_;  that  is.  itja^nnrl  in  it.nrtf-»  2 

Let  us  analyze  this  view. 

(a)  An  act  is  good  because  it  is  prompted  by  a 
good  will.  But,  we  ask,  what  is  a  good  will  ?  Is 
there  any  such  thing  as  an  absolute  good  will  ?  If 
not,  what  is  the  criterion  of  its  goodness  ?  A  good 
will  is  a  will  that  is  good  for  something,  a  will  that 
tends  to  realize  a  certain  end  or  purpose,  is  it  not? 


is  t©-^j^u£_in_j^circle.  What  is  the  good,  what  is 
the  criterion  of  goodness  ?  It  seems  that  we  need 
a  standard  for  judging  springs  of  action  as  much 
as  we  need  one  for  judging  acts. 

(6)  No,  you  say,  a  good  will  is  one  which  acts 
from  a  sense  of  duty  or  respect  for  the  law,  regard- 
less of  effects,3  and  we  call  him  good  whose  will  is 
good  in  this  sense.  RutT  wp.  ask,  diuwe^reallv  call 
a  man-od  whose  sense  of  jur^romts  him  to 


1  Ethical  Studies.  a  Abbott's  translation,  p.  9. 

»  Kant. 


THE  TELEOLOGICAL    VIEW  143 

commit  crime?  Almost  every  fanatic  who  has  assas- 
sinated the  ruler  of  a  nation,  from  Harmodios  and 
Aristogeiton  down  to  the  miserable  wretch  who 
took  the  life  of  the  defenceless  Queen  Elizabeth  of 
Austria,  did  so  from  a  sense  of  duty.  We  cannot 
call  the  deeds  of  these  pretended  patriots  good, 
even  though  we  may  believe  that  their  motives 
were  good,  good  in  the  sense  that  they  intended 
to  benefit  mankind.  The  fact  is,  we  judge  not  only 
the  disposition  or  motive,  but  both  motive  and  act, 
the  person  and  the  thing,  the  subject  and  the  object. 
When  a  man's  motives  are  good  or  pure,  we  call  him 
subjectively  or  formally  moral ;  when  his  act  is  good, 
objectively  or  materially  moral.1  To  quote  Paulsen's 
example,  Saint  Crispin  stole  leather  from  the  rich 
to  make  shoes  for  the  poor.  His  desire  was  to 
alleviate  suffering,  his  motives  were  in  a  certain 
sense  good.  But  can  we  approve  of  his  conduct, 
or  of  the  conduct  of  the  political  assassins  who 
believe  that  the  devil  should  be  fought  with  his 
own  devilish  weapons?  Is  it  right  to  steal  from 
the  rich  to  benefit  the  poor ;  is  it  right  to  commit 
murder  even  without  malice  aforethought?  Why 
not?  Because  theft  and  murder  tend  to  produce 
effects  subversive  of  life,  because  it  lies  in  the  very 

luAn  act  is  materially  good  when,  in  fact,  it  tends  to  the 
interest  of  the  system,  so  far  as  we  can  judge  of  its  tendency, 
or  to  the  good  of  some  part  consistent  with  the  system,  what- 
ever were  the  affections  of  the  agent."  "An  action  is  formally 
good  when  it  flowed  from  good  affection  in  a  just  proportion."  — 
Hutcheson.  See  also  Wundt,  Paulsen,  Jhering,  and  others. 


144  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

nature  of  these  acts  to  breed  ruin  and  destruction. 
A  man,  then,  may  be  subjectively  moral  and  objec- 
tively immoral,  and  vice  versa.  But  can  we  call 
him  truly  good  or  moral  when  there  is  a  conflict 
between  his  motives  and  his  deeds?  Should  we 
hold  him  up  to  the  world  as  a  model,  should  we 
admire  him  as  much  as  one  whose  motives  lead 
him  to  the  performance  of  commendable  deeds  ? 
Nay,  should  we  not  rather  seek  excuses  for  him  ? 
Think  of  the  thousand  unfortunates  whom  the 
religious  fervor  of  our  Catholic  forefathers  slew 
for  the  greater  glory  of  God  !  We  turn  over  the 
pages  of  the  history  of  the  Inquisition  and  shudder 
to  think  that  the  sense  of  duty  should  have  allied 
itself  with  such  cruelty,  such  hear  ties  sness,  such 
inhumanity. 

Let  us  say,  then,  that  the  goodness  of  an  act 
depends  upon  the  effects  which  it  naturally  tends 
to  produce,  and  the  goodness  of  a  motive  depends 
upon  its  tendency  to  express  itself  outwardly  in 
good  acts.  The  truly  good  man  not  only  desires 
to  do  right,  but  does  it.  The  reason  why  we  lay 
so  much  stress  on  right  feeling,  on  the  inwardliness 
of  morality,  so  to  speak,  is  that  it  is  apt  to  lead 
to  right  action.  The  heart  is  the  citadel  of  moral- 
ity, and  the  pure  in  heart  are  apt  to  be  pure  in  deed. 
"  Thou  blind  Pharisee,  cleanse  first  the  inside  of  the 
cup  and  of  the  platter,  that  the  outside  thereof  may 
become  clean  also."  As  Leslie  Stephen  says  :  "The 
moral  law  has  to  be  expressed  in  the  form,  '  Be  this,' 


THE  TELEOLOGICAL    VIEW  145 

not  in  the  form  4  Do  this  !  "  "  Regulate  a  man's  feel- 
ings or  his  actions,  and  you  necessarily  affect  his 
actions  or  his  feelings.  Induce  a  man  not  to  hate 
his  brother,  and  he  will  be  slow  to  kill  him  ;  and  if 
you  persuade  him  not  to  kill,  you  necessarily  limit  to 
some  degree  the  force  of  his  hatred.  As  it  is  easier 
for  the  primitive  mind  to  accept  the  objective  than 
the  subjective  definition  of  conduct,  the  primitive 
rule  takes  the  corresponding  form,  and  only  pre- 
scribes qualities  of  character  indirectly  by  prescrib- 
ing methods  of  conduct."1 

(c)  In  a  certain  sense,  however,  we  must  confess, 
it  is  the  human  will  which  makes  the  #ct  good.  An 
act  is  good  because  of  the  end  or  purpose  it  realizes. 
This  end  or  purpose  is  one  desired  or  willed  by 
man,  and  this  ideal,  this  categorical  imperative,  as 
we  called  it  before,  is  good  in  itself,  absolutely  good, 
that  is,  good  in  the  sense  that  no  reason  can  be  given 
for  its  goodness.  Hence  we  are  brought  back  to  an 
ultimate  principle  of  human  nature.  ,  The  goodness 

tends_ta.jMxd4t^e^-an^the  goodness  of  a  particular 
motive  dapm4ft-4ipQR.  the  effect  which  it  tends  to 
n  action,  but  tfrft  effect,  itself  is  good 


because  man  wills^it.  Interpreted  in  this  sense,  the 
Kantian  view  cannot  be  escaped  ;  in  this  sense  noth- 
ing in  this  world  is  good  except  a  good  will,  and  a 
good  will  is  good  simply  by  virtue  of  its  volition. 

1  Science  of  Ethics,  chap,  iv,  iv.    See  also  Wundt,  Ethics,  Vol.  I, 
chap,  i,  2  6,  pp.  37  ff. 

L 


146  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

10.  The  End  justifies  the  Means.  —  The  following 
argument  is  also  urged  as  a  fatal  objection  to  our 
theory  : l  According  to  the  teleological  view,  it  is 
maintained,  morality  is  a  means  to  an  end.  Hence,  if 
the  end  is  good,  the  means  of  realizing  that  end  must 
necessarily  be  good,  which  is  equivalent  to  saying 
that  the  end  justifies  the  means.  And  if  the  end  jus- 
tifies the  means,  then  it  is  right  to  commit  crime  in 
order  to  realize  a  good  end.  The  practical  applica- 
tion of  this  teaching  is  bound  to  lead  to  immorality, 
which  in  itself  stamps  it  as  false  and  dangerous. 

These  statements  are  full  of  misconceptions.  The 
theory  does  not  assert  that  any  end  which  any  per- 
son may  happen  to  regard  as  good  justifies  any 
means  which  in  that  person's  opinion  will  realize  the 
end.  It  maintains  that  morality  conduces  to  an  end, 
that  this  end  is  the  highest  end,  that  this  end,  as  the 
highest  end,  is  tacitly  desired  and  approved  by  all 
mankind.  The  correct  application  of  such  a  prin- 
ciple cannot  fail  to  meet  the  approval  of  the  most 
moral  man  in  existence.  Let  us  go  into  details. 

(a)  This  theory  does  not  hold  that  when  once  a 
man  has  adopted  a  certain  end  as  good  he  is  justified 
in  doing  whatever  conduces  to  it.  Nay,  we  have 
expressly  repudiated  this  view  in  our  criticism  of 
the  "  springs-of -action  "  theory.2  Our  theory  does 
not  concern  itself  with  the  temporary  and  particular 

1  See  Paulsen,  System  of  Ethics,  in  which  it  is  treated  in  full, 
and  to  which  I  am  largely  indebted  for  the  following  paragraph. 
3  See  chap,  v,  §  9. 


THE  TELEOLOGICAL    VIEW  147 

desires  of  individuals,  which  may  conflict  with  the 
ultimate  purpose  of  morality.  I  have  the  right  to 
acquire  property,  but  I  have  not  the  right  to  murder 
and  steal  in  order  to  gain  my  point.  The  amassing 
of  wealth  is  not  the  highest  end,  the  chief  good ; 
indeed,  it  is  not  an  end  in  itself  at  all,  but  a  means 
to  a  higher  end.  You  may  happen  to  believe  that 
the  advancement  of  a  particular  religious  sect  is  the 
highest  end,  that  God  desires  your  faction  to  be  tri- 
umphant. You  may  consequently  regard  it  as  right 
to  use  whatever  means  may  benefit  your  sect.  But 
you  should  remember,  first,  that  your  believing  tln> 
does  not  make  it  so ;  and,  secondly,  that  evil  deeds 
will  not  in  the  long  run  benefit  any  cause.  Teleo- 
logical  ethics  does  not  say  that  ends  justify  means, 
but  it  can  safely  assert  that  the  highest  end,  what- 
ever that  may  be,  justifies  the  means. 

(5)  Does  that  mean  that  if  the  highest  end  can 
be  realized  by  murder,  theft,  and  falsehood,  then 
these  modes  of  conduct  are  moral?  We  must 
answer,  as  before,  that  murder,  theft,  and  falsehood 
tend  to  breed  destruction,  that  it  lies  in  their  very 
nature  to  do  so,  as  the  experience  of  countless  ages 
amply  proves.  Temporary  advantages  may,  per- 
haps, be  gained  in  exceptional  cases  by  the  perform- 
ance of  such  deeds,  but  lasting  good  cannot  follow 
wrong.  Honesty  is  the  best  policy,  and  the  devil 
the  father  of  lies.  The  highest  end  cannot  be 
attained  by  such  means ;  nay,  no  cause  can  thrive 
on  wrong. 


148  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

But,  you  say,  suppose  a  form  of  conduct  which, 
as  a  rule,  tends  to  produce  pernicious  effects,  and 
is  condemned,  should,  owing  to  changed  conditions 
or  special  circumstances,  result  in  good,  what  then? 
Well,  we  reply,  if  it  is  absolutely  certain  that  such 
conduct  tends  to  realize  the  end  of  morality,  human- 
ity will  approve  of  it.  It  is  wrong  to  take  human 
life  or  to  rob  a  man  of  his  liberty,  and  yet  the  State 
inflicts  the  death  penalty  on  criminals,  orders  its 
soldiers  to  shoot  down  public  foes  by  the  hundreds, 
confines  lawbreakers  in  prisons,  and  breaks  up  hun- 
dreds and  thousands  of  homes.  It  is  right  to  tell 
the  truth,  and  yet  the  general  deceives  the  enemy 
and  even  his  own  army ;  and  the  physician  deceives 
his  patients  in  case  he  deems  it  necessary.1  Is  hu- 
manity benefited  by  these  acts,  would  life  and  growth 
be  impossible  without  them,  are  there  no  evil  conse- 
quences attaching  to  them?  We  evidently  believe 
that  capital  punishment  tends  to  preserve  society ; 
otherwise  we  should  not  permit  it.  Should  the  race 
ever  lose  faith  in  the  efficacy  of  this  awful  process, 
so  shocking  to  all  sympathetic  natures,  it  would  not 
only  abolish  it,  but  forever  regret  the  fate  of  those 
who  have  died  on  the  bloody  scaffold. 

(<?)  Another  thing.  The  theory  does  not  say  that 
the  end  justifies  the  means  which  you  or  I  may  be- 
lieve or  think  will  make  for  the  end.  There  is  a 
great  difference  between  saying  that  the  end  justi- 

1  See  Xenophon's  Memorabilia^  Bk.  IV,  Socrates's  Definition 
of  Justice. 


THE  TELEOLOGICAL    VIEW  149 

fies  the  means,  and,  the  end  justifies  the  means  which 
you  or  I  believe  to  be  the  means.  In  order  to  be 
strictly  moral,  an  act  must  actually  realize  the  high- 
est end.  Your  believing  or  feeling  certain  that  it 
does,  does  not  make  it  so. 

(d)  It  seems,  then,  you  say,  that  both  the  race 
and  the  individual  may  be  mistaken,  that  they  may 
approve  of  laws  which  do  not   really  promote  the 
welfare  of  humanity,  or  whatever  the  end  may  be. 
Exactly,  we  answer,  such  is  the  case.      To  err  is 
human,  in  morals  as  everywhere  else.     Many  forms 
of  conduct  have  in  the  course  of  history  been  felt 
as  right,  which  subsequent  generations  acknowledged 
to  be  wrong.     And  men  have  died  at  the  stake  and 
on  the  cross  for  offering  the  world  a  moral  code  for 
which  future  ages  blessed  their  names.     The  sinner 
of  to-day  often  becomes  the  saint  of  to-morrow. 

(e)  And  now  let  us  ask  some  questions  ourselves. 
The  opponents  of  teleology  usually  regard  conscience 
as  the  final  arbiter  of  conduct.      A   man  is  asked 
to  act  according  to  the  dictates  of  his  conscience. 
Now  suppose  it  tells  him  to  steal  and  kill  and  lie 
in  order  to  accomplish  what  he  believes  to  be  right. 
Then  are  not  falsehood  and  murder  and  stealing  right  ? 
And  then,  does  not  the  good  end  justify  the  means? 
If  you  say  that  his  conscience  may  be  mistaken,  and 
that  he  should  therefore  not  obey  his  conscience,  you 
have  given  up  your  position.       Besides,  how   shall 
he  correct  his  conscience  ?     By  reflecting  ?     Reflect- 
ing upon  what?     Evidently  upon  some  principle  or 


150  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

criterion  which  is  to  serve  as  a  guide  even  to  his 
so-called  infallible  conscience.1 

11.  Teleology  and  Atheism. — The  objection  is  also 
frequently  raised  that  teleology  is  a  godless  doc- 
trine. This  is  the  usual  stand  taken  by  persons  who 
can  oppose  no  tenable  arguments  against  a  view, 
and  yet  desire  in  some  way  to  confound  it.  By 
designating  it  as  atheistic  they  hope  to  cast  discredit 
upon  it  and  its  supporters,  and  to  frighten  others 
from  subscribing  to  it.  The  theory,  however,  is 
no  more  godless  than  any  other  theory.  There  is 
nothing  absurd  in  the  thought  that  God  established 
morality  because  of  the  effects  which  it  tends  to 
realize.  It  is  not  absurd  to  believe  that  He  had  a 
purpose  in  view  in  establishing  it,  and  that  this  pur- 
pose is  the  reason  for  its  existence.  No  one,  it  seems 
to  me,  can  accuse  men  like  Thomas  Aquinas,  Will- 
iam Paley,2  and  Bishop  Butler  of  godlessness;  and 
yet  they  found  it  possible  to  believe  in  teleology. 
Let  me  quote  from  Butler's  Sermons  upon  Human 
Nature :  "It  may  be  added  that  as  persons  without 
any  conviction  from  reason  of  the  desirableness  of 
life  would  yet,  of  course,  preserve  it  merely  from 
the  appetite  of  hunger,  so,  by  acting  merely  from 
regard  (suppose)  to  reputation,  without  any  con- 
sideration of  the  good  of  others,  men  often  contrib- 
ute to  public  good.  In  both  these  instances  they 
are  plainly  instruments  in  the  hands  of  another,  in 

1  See  Kant,  Abbott's  translation,  p.  311. 
a  See  chap,  vi,  §  10. 


THE  TELEOLOGICAL    VIEW  151 

the  hands  of  Providence,  to  carry  on  ends  —  the 
preservation  of  the  individual  and  good  of  society 
—  which  they  themselves  have  not  in  their  view  or 
intention."1 

12.  Teleology  and  Intuitionism.  —  In  conclusion,  I 
should  like  to  emphasize  the  fact  that  there  is  no 
necessary  contradiction  between  the  theory  we  have 
advanced  in  the  foregoing  pages,  and  intuitionism.2 

1  See  Mill's  Utilitarianism,  chap,  ii,  pp.  31 1:  "  We  not  uncom- 
monly hear  the  doctrine  of  utility  inveighed  against  as  a  godless 
doctrine.    If  it  be  necessary  to  say  anything  at  all  against  so 
mere  an  assumption,  we  may  say  that  the  question  depends  upon 
what  idea  we  have  formed  of  the  moral  character  of  the  Deity.     If 
it  be  a  true  belief  that  God  desires,  above  all  things,  the  happiness 
of  His  creatures,  and  that  this  was  His  purpose  in  their  creation, 
utility  is  not  only  not  a  godless  doctrine,  but  more  profoundly 
religious  than  any  other.     If  it  be  meant  that  utilitarianism  does 
not  recognize  the  revealed  will  of  God  as  the  supreme  law  of 
morals,  I  answer  that  an  utilitarian  who  believes  in  the  perfect 
goodness  and  wisdom  of  God  necessarily  believes  that  whatever 
God  has  thought  fit  to  reveal  on  the  subject  of  morals  must  fulfil 
the  requirements  of   utility  in  a  supreme   degree.    But   others 
besides  utilitarians  have  been  of  opinion  that  the  Christian  revela- 
tion was  intended,  and  is  fitted,  to  inform  the  hearts  and  minds  of 
mankind  with  a  spirit  which  should  enable  them  to  find  for  them- 
selves what  is  right,  and  incline  them  to  do  it  when  found,  rather 
than  to  tell  them,  except  in  a  very  general  way,  what  it  is ; 
and  that  we  need  a  doctrine  of  ethics,  carefully  followed  out,  to 
interpret  to  us  the  will  of  God.     Whether  this  opinion  is  correct  or 
not,  it  is  superfluous  here  to  discuss,  since  whatever  aid  religion, 
either  natural  or  revealed,  can  afford  to  ethical  investigation,  is  as 
open  to  the  utilitarian  moralist  as  to  any  other.     He  can  use  it  as 
the  testimony  of  God  to  the  usefulness  or  hurtfulness  of  any  given 
course  of  action,  by  as  good  right  as  others  can  use  it  for  the  indi- 
cation of  a  transcendental  law,  having  no  connection  with  useful- 
ness or  with  happiness." 

2  See  chap,  iv,  §  7,  note. 


152  INTRODUCTION-  TO  ETHICS 

According  to  the  teleological  view,  the  ultimate 
ground  of  moral  distinctions  is  to  be  sought  in  the 
effects  which  acts  naturally  tend  to  produce.  That 
is,  morality  realizes  a  purpose,  is  a  means  to  an  end, 
and  owes  its  existence  to  its  utility.  Intuitionism 
maintains  that  morality  is  intuitive,  that  the  moral 
law  is  engraven  on  the  heart  of  man,  that  it  is  not 
imposed  upon  him  from  without,  but  springs  from 
his  innermost  essence. 

Now  these  two  views  are  by  no  means  antithetical, 
as  is  so  often  declared,  but  may  be  easily  harmonized. 
In  the  first  place,  the  end  realized  by  morality  is  one 
absolutely  desired  by  human  beings.  An  act  is  right 
because  it  produces  a  certain  effect  upon  human  na- 
ture, because,  in  the  last  analysis,  humanity  approves 
of  that  effect.1  We  cannot  ultimately  justify  it 
except  on  the  ground  of  its  effect  upon  man.  It  is 
good  because  man  acknowledges  it  as  a  good,  be- 
cause he  is  by  nature  so  constituted  as  to  be  com- 
pelled to  acknowledge  it  as  a  good.  In  a  certain 
sense,  Kant  is  right  in  saying  that  nothing  in  this 
world  is  good  except  a  good  will,  and  that  a  good 
will  is  good  simply  by  virtue  of  its  volition.  The 
highest  good,  or  the  end  realized  by  the  moral  law,  is 
an  absolute  good,  a  good  unconditionally  desired  by 
the  human  will,  one  for  which  no  other  ground  can 
be  found,  one  whose  goodness  inheres  in  itself.  A 
particular  act  is  good  because  of  the  end  which  it 
tends  to  realize,  but  the  end  is  good  in  itself,  good 
1  See  chap,  v,  §  8,  §  9  (c). 


THE  TELEOLOGICAL    VIEW  153 

because  man  wills  it.  In  this  sense,  there  is  a  cate- 
gorical imperative  in  the  heart  of  man,  an  imperative 
that  is  no  longer  hypothetical,  but  unconditional.1 
In  this  sense,  too,  morality  is  imposed  upon  man  by 
himself:  it  is  the  expression  of  his  own  innermost 
essence. 

In  the  second  place,  we  may  say,  as  we  have  already 
said,  that  an  act  is  good  or  bad  because  conscience 
declares  it  to  be  so.2  The  agent  evaluates  as  he 
does  because  the  contemplation  of  the  act  produces 
a  certain  effect  upon  his  consciousness,  because  it 
arouses  certain  emotions  in  him,  because  conscience 
pronounces  judgment  upon  it.  This  statement  by 
no  means  contradicts  the  statement  that  the  effect 
of  the  act  is  the  final  criterion  of  its  moral  worth. 
The  intuitionist  must  grant  that  the  acts  approved 
by  conscience  produce  good  effects  or  realize  the  high- 
est good  for  man,  and  that  its  function  is  to  help 
man  to  attain  his  goal.  The  theological  intuitionist 
must  admit  that  conscience  approves  of  forms  of 
conduct  enjoined  by  God  on  account  of  their  con- 
sequences, that  conscience  is  the  representative  of 
God  in  the  human  heart,  placed  there  in  order  to 
serve  the  purpose  of  the  Creator  with  reference  to 
man.  In  every  instance,  conscience  is  supposed 
to  serve  a  purpose,  to  accomplish  something  for  man, 
to  produce  effects;  otherwise,  why  should  it  exist? 
There  is  really  no  controversy  between  the  intuition- 

1  See  chap,  v,  §  2  ;  also  chap,  ii,  §  7  (1). 

2  Chap,  v,  §  1. 


154  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

1st  and  the  teleologist  on  this  point.  Both  may 
agree  that  conscience  is  a  means  to  an  end,  and  that 
this  end,  in  some  way,  accounts  for  its  existence. 
The  question  concerning  the  origin  of  conscience 
will  not  necessarily  affect  this  view.  The  teleol- 
ogist may  believe  that  conscience  is  innate,  or  that 
it  is  the  product  of  experience,  or  that  it  contains 
both  a  priori  and  a  posteriori  elements,  without  con- 
tradicting his  general  theory,  that  morality  serves  a 
purpose  in  the  world,  and  that  this  purpose  is  its 
final  ground. 


CHAPTER  VI 

THEORIES  OF  THE  HIGHEST  GOOD:  HEDONISM  * 

1.  The  Standard  of  Morality  and  the  Highest 
Crood.  —  The  conclusion  reached  in  the  last  chapter 
was  that  the  effects  of  acts  constitute  the  ultimate 
ground  of  moral  distinctions.  Acts  are,  in  the  last 
analysis,  right  or  wrong,  good  or  bad,  because  of  the 
end  or  purpose  which  they  tend  to  realize.  We 
have  attempted  to  show  what  this  means  and  what 
it  does  not  mean.  The  question  now  confronts  us, 
What  is  this  end  or  purpose  at  which  human  conduct 
aims  ?  Mankind  enjoins  certain  modes  of  conduct  in 
its  moral  codes,  and  insists  upon  their  performance. 
The  end  realized  by  these  must,  therefore,  represent 
what  the  race  ultimately  desires  and  approves ;  it 
must  in  a  measure  represent  the  ideal  of  the  race,  or 
a  good.  The  race  desires  and  approves  of  the  forms 
of  conduct  embraced  in  the  moral  code,  for  the  sake 
of  the  end  realized  by  that  code,  and  desires  and 
approves  of  the  end  for  its  own  sake.  The  end 
must  be  something  which  it  desires  absolutely,  other- 
wise it  would  be  no  end,  but  a  means.  Our  original 
question,  What  is  the  ground  of  moral  distinctions, 
may  therefore  be  reduced  to  this  :  What  is  the 
1  See  references  under  chap.  ii. 
155 


156  INTRODUCTION1  TO  ETHICS 

highest  end,  or  the  highest  good,  the  summum  bonum? 
What  is  it  that  mankind  strives  for,  what  does  it 
prize  above  all  else,  what  is  its  ideal? 

2.  The  Greek  Formulation  of  the  Problem.  —  This 
is  the  form  in  which  the  ancient  Greeks  put  the 
problem.  They  do  not  analyze  moral  facts  as  we  do, 
in  order  to  discover  the  principles  underlying  them, 
but  simply  inquire  into  the  nature  of  the  highest 
good.  "Every  art  and  every  scientific  inquiry," 
says  Aristotle,  at  the  beginning  of  his  Nicomachean 
Ethics,  "and  similarly  every  action  and  purpose, 
may  be  said  to  aim  at  some  good.  Hence  the  good 
has  been  defined  as  that  at  which  things  aim.  But 
it  is  clear  that  there  is  a  difference  in  the  ends  ;  for 
the  ends  are  sometimes  activities,  and  sometimes 
results  beyond  the  mere  activities.  Also,  where 
there  are  certain  ends  beyond  the  actions,  the  results 
are  naturally  superior  to  the  activities.  As  there 
are  certain  arts  and  sciences,  it  follows  that  the 
ends  are  also  various.  Thus  health  is  the  end  of 
medicine,  a  vessel  of  ship-building,  and  wealth  of 
domestic  economy."1 

"  What,  then,  is  the  good  in  each  of  these  instances  ? 
It  is  presumably  that  for  the  sake  of  which  all  else  is 
done.  This  in  medicine  is  health ;  in  strategy,  vic- 
tory ;  in  domestic  architecture,  a  house ;  and  so  on. 
But  in  every  action  and  purpose  it  is  the  end,  as  it  is 
for  the  sake  of  the  end  that  people  all  do  everything 
else.  If,  then,  there  is  a  certain  end  of  all  action, 
1  Bk.  I,  chap.  i. 


THEORIES  OF  THE  HIGHEST  GOOD        157 

it  will  be  this  which  is  the  practicable  good,  and  ii 
there  are  several  such  ends  it  will  be  these.  .  .  . 
As  it  appears  that  there  are  more  ends  than  one,  and 
some  of  these,  e.g.,  wealth,  flutes,  and  instruments 
generally,  we  desire  as  means  to  something  else,  it  is 
evident  that  they  are  not  all  final  ends.  But  the 
highest  good  is  clearly  something  final.  Hence,  if 
there  is  only  one  final  end,  this  will  be  the  object  of 
which  we  are  in  search,  and  if  there  are  more  than 
one,  it  will  be  the  most  final  of  them.  We  speak  of 
that  which  is  sought  after  for  its  own  sake  as  more 
final  than  that  which  is  sought  after  as  a  means  to 
something  else ;  we  speak  of  that  which  is  never 
desired  as  a  means  to  something  else  as  more  final 
than  the  things  which  are  desired  both  in  themselves 
and  as  a  means  to  something  else;  and  we  speak  of  a 
thing  as  absolutely  final,  if  it  is  always  desired  in 
itself  and  never  as  a  means  to  something  else."1 

Let  us  see  how  this  question  of  the  highest  good 
was  answered  in  the  past. 

The  question  usually  receives  one  of  two  answers: 
(1)  According  to  one  school,  pleasure  is  the  highest 

1  Bk.  I,  chap,  v,  Welldon's  translation.  Compare  with  this 
Mill,  Utilitarianism,  chap,  i:  "Questions  of  ultimate  ends  are  not 
amenable  to  direct  proof.  Whatever  can  be  proved  to  be  good 
must  be  so  by  being  shown  to  be  a  means  to  something  admitted  to 
be  good  without  proof.  The  medical  art  is  proved  to  be  good 
by  its  conducing  to  health ;  but  how  is  it  possible  to  prove  that 
health  is  good  ?  The  art  of  music  is  good  for  the  reason,  among 
others,  that  it  produces  pleasure ;  but  what  proof  is  it  possible  to 
give  that  pleasure  is  good  ?  "  See  also  Hume,  Principles  of  Morals^ 
Appendix  I,  v.,  quoted  in  note  on  p.  141. 


158  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

good,  end,  or  purpose ;  (2)  according  to  another,  it 
is  action,  or  preservation,  or  perfection,  or  reason. 
We  shall  discuss  the  different  theories  in  what  fol- 
lows, under  the  heads  of  hedonism  and  energism.1 

3.  The  Cyrenaics. — Aristippus  of  Gyrene,  who 
lived  in  the  third  century  before  Christ  and  founded 
the  Cyrenaic  school,2  regards  pleasure  (jj^ovrj)  as  the 
ultimate  aim  of  life,  for  all  normal  beings  desire  it. 
"  We  are  from  childhood  attracted  to  it  without  any 
deliberate  choice  of  our  own ;  and  when  we  have 
obtained  it,  we  do  not  seek  anything  further,  and 
there  is  nothing  which  we  avoid  so  much  as  its  oppo- 
site, which  is  pain."3  By  pleasure  he  means  the 
positive  enjoyment  of  the  moment  ^Sovrj  ev  /az^cret), 
not  merely  repose  of  spirit,  "  a  sort  of  un disturbed  - 
ness,"  or  permanent  state  of  happiness.  The  chief 
good  is  a  particular  pleasure.  Only  the  present  is 
ours,  the  past  is  gone,  the  future  uncertain.  Therefore, 
"  Carpe  diem,"  "  Gather  the  rosebuds  while  ye  may," 
"Eat,  drink,  and  be  merry,  for  to-morrow  you  die." 

But  shall  the  pleasure  be  bodily  or  mental? 
Well,  bodily  pleasures  are  superior  to  mental  ones, 

1  See  chap,  iv,  §  6. 

2  See  Diogenes  Laertius,  The  Lives  and  Opinions  of  Eminent 
Philosophers,  Bk.  II ;  Sextus  Empiricus,  Adv.  math. ,  Bk.  VII,  191- 
192 ;  Hitter  and  Preller,  Historia  Philosophic  Grcecce,  pp.  207  ff. ; 
Mullach,  Fragments,  Vol.  II,  397  ff . ;  the  histories  of  ethics,  etc. ,  men- 
tioned under  chap,  ii,  especially  Paulsen,  Seth,  Sidgwick,  Hyslop, 
Lecky,  chap  i.    For  fuller  bibliographies  on  the  thinkers  mentioned 
in  this  chapter,  see  the  histories  of  philosophy,  especially  English 
translation  of  Weber's  History  of  Philosophy. 

8  Diogenes  Laertius,  translated  in  Bohn's  Library,  p.  89. 


THEORIES  OF  THE  HIGHEST  GOOD        159 

and  bodily  sufferings  worse  than  mental.  Still, 
every  pleasant  feeling  (rjSvTrddeia),  whether  it  be 
physical  or  spiritual,  is  pleasure.  Every  pleasure 
as  such  is  a  good.  But  some  pleasures  are  bought 
with  great  pain  and  are  to  be  avoided.  A  man 
should  exercise  his  judgment,  be  prudent  in  the 
choice  of  his  pleasures.  "The  best  thing,"  says 
Aristippus,  "is  to  possess  pleasures  without  being 
their  slave,  not  to  be  devoid  of  pleasures." 

Theodorus,  a  member  of  the  same  school,  declares 
that,  since  you  cannot  always  enjoy,  you  should  try 
to  reach  a  happy  frame  of  mind  (%a/ja).  Prudence 
will  enable  a  man  to  obtain  the  pleasant  and  avoid 
the  unpleasant.  Pleasure,  then,  is  the  end ;  pru- 
dence or  insight  or  reflection  (^/jo'z^cm),  the  means 
of  getting  the  most  pleasure  out  of  life. 

Hegesias,  called  TreMnOdvaros  (persuader  to  die), 
the  pessimist,  admits  that  we  all  desire  happiness, 
but  holds  that  complete  happiness  cannot  exist. 
Hence  the  chief  good  is  to  be  free  from  all  trouble 
and  pain,  and  this  end  is  best  attained  by  those  who 
look  upon  the  efficient  causes  of  pleasure  as  indiffer- 
ent. Indeed,  death  is  preferable  to  life,  for  death 
takes  us  out  of  the  reach  of  pain.1  Anniceris,  too, 
considers  pleasure  as  the  chief  good,  and  the  depri- 
vation of  it  as  an  evil.  Still,  a  man  has  natural 
feelings  of  benevolence,  and  ought  therefore  to  sub- 
mit voluntarily  to  this  deprivation  out  of  regard  for 
his  friends  and  his  country. 

1  See  Cicero,  Tusc.,  34. 


160  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

4.  Epicurus.  —  According  to  Epicurus,1  a  later 
advocate  of  hedonism,  pleasure  is  the  highest  good, 
pain  the  greatest  evil,2  riot,  however,  the  positive  or 
active  pleasure  of  the  Cyrenaics,  pleasure  in  motion 
v^T-ucri),  but  quiet  pleasure  (rjSovrj  Karao-TT)- 
ij*),  repose__Ql  spirit  (ara/aafta),  freedom  from 
pain  (aTTovCa).  The  latter  pleasures,  which  Epicu- 
rus calls  pleasures  of  the  soul,  are  greater  than  the 
former,  those  of  the  body;  just  as  the  pains  of 
the  soul  are  worse  than  those  of  the  body.  For  the 
flesh  is  only  sensible  to  present  joy  and  affliction, 
but  the  soul  feels  the  past,  the  present,  and  the 
future.  Physical  pleasure  does  not  last  as  such; 
only  the  recollection  of  it  endures.  Hence,  mental 
pleasure,  i.e.,  the  remembrance  of  bodily  pleasure, 
which  is  free  from  the  pains  accompanying  physical 
enjoyment,  is  higher  than  physical  pleasure. 

Now  how  shall  we  reach  the  chief  good  ?  Although 
no  pleasure  is  intrinsically  bad,  we  do  not  choose 
every  pleasure,  for  many  pleasures  are  followed  by 
greater  pains,  and  many  pains  are  followed  by 
greater  pleasures.  We  must  exercise  our  judgment, 
we  must  have  prudence  or  insight  ((fcpovrjo-is')  to 


1  340-270  B.C.      Diogenes  Laertius,  X;    Cicero,  De  finibus,  I; 
Lucretius,  De  rerum  natura;  Sextus  Empiricus,  Adv.  math.,  XI; 
Hitter  and  Preller,  pp.  373  ff  .     See  my  translation  of  Weber,  His- 
tory of  Philosophy,  p.  134,  note  1. 

2  "  They  say  that  there  are  two  passions,  pleasure  and  pain, 
which  affect  everything  alive,  and  that  the  one  is  natural,  and 
the  other  foreign  to  our  nature  ;  with  reference  to  which  all  objects 
of  choice  and  avoidance  are  judged  of."     Diogenes  Laertius,  Eng- 
lish translation,  p.  436  ;  see  also  p.  470. 


THEORIES  OF  THE  HIGHEST  GOOD        161 

guide  us  in  our  choice  of  pleasures  and  in  our  avoid 
ance  of  pains.  "  When  therefore  we  say  that  pleas- 
ure is  a  chief  good,  we  are  not  speaking  of  the 
pleasures  of  the  debauched  man,  or  those  who  lie 
in  sensual  enjoyment,  as  some  think  who  are  igno- 
rant, and  who  do  not  entertain  our  opinions,  or  else 
interpret  them  perversely ;  but  we  mean  the  freedom 
of  the  body  from  pain,  and  of  the  soul  from  confu- 
sion. For  it  is  not  continued  drinkings  and  revels, 
or  the  enjoyment  of  female  society,  or  feasts  of  fish 
and  other  such  things  as  a  costly  table  supplies, 
that  make  life  pleasant,  but  sober  contemplation, 
which  examines  the  reasons  for  all  choice  and  avoid- 
ance, and  which  puts  to  flight  the  vain  opinions 
from  which  the  greater  part  of  the  confusion  arises 
which  troubles  the  soul."  "The  wise  man,  the  man 
of  insight,  understands  the  causes  of  things,  and 
will,  therefore,  be  free  from  prejudice,  superstition, 
fear  of  death,  all  of  which  render  one  unhappy  and 
hinder  the  attainment  of  peace  of  mind." 

In  order  to  be  happy,  then,  you  must  be  prudent, 
honest,  and  just.  "  It  is  not  possible  to  live  pleas- 
antly unless  one  also  lives  prudently,  and  honorably, 
and  justly  ;  and  one  cannot  live  prudently,  and  hon- 
estly, and  justly,  without  living  pleasantly ;  for  the 
virtues  are  connate  with  living  agreeably,  and  living 
agreeably  is  inseparable  from  the  virtues."1 

We   see   how  this  school  develops  from   a  crass 
hedonism  to  a  somewhat  more  refined  form  of  it. 
i  D.  L.,  pp.  471  f. 


162  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

At  first  it  makes  active  pleasure,  pleasure  of  a  posi- 
tive sort,  the  goal,  then  gradually  diminishes  its 
intensity  until  it  becomes  painlessness,  repose  of 
spirit,  peace  of  mind,  in  Hegesias  and  Epicurus. 
Again,  at  first  it  is  the  pleasure  of  the  moment 
which  is  sought  after,  then  the  pleasure  of  a  life- 
time is  conceived  as  the  highest  good.  Forethought, 
or  prudence,  is  also  insisted  on  in  the  course  of  time 
as  a  necessary  means  of  realizing  the  goal. 

5.  Democritus. — All  these  ideas,  however,  had  been 
advanced  by  Democritus,1  of  Abdera,  the  materialistic 
philosopher,  long  before  the  appearance  of  the  Cyre- 
naics.  Though  this  thinker  is  the  first  consistent 
hedonist  among  the  ancients,  and  the  intellectual 
father  of  Epicurus,  I  have  placed  him  at  the  end  of 
the  exposition  of  ancient  hedonism,  because  his 
teachings  seem  to  me  to  be  more  matured  than 
those  of  his  followers. 

According  to  Democritus,  the  end  of  life  is  pleas- 
ure or  happiness  (eueVra),  evOvpia,  adavjjLaa-ia,  aOafi- 
j3ia,  arapa^ia,  dp/Jiovia,  fu/A/^erpia,  euSaifiovia),  by 
which  he  means  an  inner  state  of  satisfaction,  an 
inner  harmony,  fearlessness.2  This  feeling  does  not 
depend  upon  external  goods,  on  health  or  sensuous 
pleasures.3  In  order  to  attain  it  man  must  use  his 
reason.  He  must  be  moderate  in  his  desires,  because 
the  less  he  desires,  the  less  apt  he  is  to  be  disap- 

1  Bibliography  in  Weber,  p.  55,  note  3.     See  especially  Miinz, 
Vorsokratische  Ethik. 

2  Fragments,  1,  2,  5,  7.  8  76. ,  15,  16. 


THEORIES  OF  THE  HIGHEST  GOOD        l(j:j 

pointed.  He  must  also  distinguish  carefully  between 
the  different  kinds  of  enjoyment,  and  select  such  as 
preserve  and  promote  health.  He  must  be  temper- 
ate, for  excess  defeats  itself.  Again,  sensuous  pleas- 
ures are  of  short  duration  and  require  repetition, 
which  disturbs  one's  peace  of  mind.1  We  should 
seek  to  obtain  the  pleasures  produced  by  reflection 
and  the  contemplation  of  beautiful  acts.  Indeed, 
the  best  way  to  reach  the  goal  is  to  exercise  the 
mental  powers. 

All  other  virtues  are  valuable  in  so  far  as  they 
realize  the  highest  good,  pleasure.  Justice  and 
benevolence  are  chief  means  of  doing  this.  Envy, 
jealousy,  and  enmity  create  discord,  which  injures 
everybody.  We  should  be  virtuous,  for  only  through 
virtue  can  we  reach  happiness.2  But  we  should  not 
only  do  the  right  from  fear  of  punishment,  since 
•  enforced  virtue  is  likely  to  become  secret  vice.  It 
is  not  enough  to  refrain  from  doing  evil;  we  should 
not  even  desire  to  do  it.  Only  by  doing  the  right 
from  conviction  and  because  you  desire  it,  can  you 
subserve  the  ends  of  virtue  and  be  happy.3  Happi- 
ness, then,  is  the  end  ;  virtue  the  means  of  reaching  it. 
6.  Locke.  —  Let  us  now  look  at  a  few  pronounced 
modern  representatives  of  this  school.  We  have 
already  seen4  that,  according  to  John  Locke,  every 

1  Fragments,  47,  60.  2  /&.,  45,  20,  21,  26,  36. 

3  /&,    117  :   /XT?    Sia  Qbpov,    dXXd    5td    rbv   dtov 


Chap,  ii,  §  6  (2). 


164  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

one  constantly  pursues  happiness,  and  desires  what 
makes  any  part  of  it.1  "Virtue,"  he  says,  "as  in 
its  obligation  it  is  the  will  of  God,  discovered  by 
natural  reason,  and  thus  has  the  force  of  law,  so  in 
the  matter  of  it,  it  is  nothing  else  but  doing  of  good, 
either  to  oneself  or  others;  and  the  contrary  hereunto, 
vice,  is  nothing  else  but  doing  of  harm."2  "Thus,  I 
think  —  It  is  man's  proper  business  to  seek  happi- 
ness and  avoid  misery.  Happiness  consists  in  what 
delights  and  contents  the  mind ;  misery  in  what  dis- 
turbs, discomposes,  or  torments  it.  I  will  therefore 
make  it  my  business  to  seek  satisfaction  and  delight, 
and  avoid  uneasiness  and  disquiet ;  to  have  as  much 
of  the  one,  and  as  little  of  the  other,  as  may  be.  But 
here  I  must  have  a  care  I  mistake  not,  for  if  I  prefer 
a  short  pleasure  to  a  lasting  one,  it  is  plain  I  cross 
my  own  happiness."  The  most  lasting  pleasures  in 
life  consist  in  (1)  health,  (2)  reputation,  (3)  knowl- 
edge, (4)  doing  good,  (5)  the  expectation  of  eternal 
and  incomprehensible  happiness  in  another  world.3 
7.  Butler.  —  Bishop  Butler,  too,  ha.s  hedonistic  ten- 
dencies, as  may  be  seen  from  certain  significant  pas- 
sages in  his  sermons.  "  Conscience  and  self-love," 

1  Essay,  Bk.  II,  chap,  xx,  §§  1  ff.;  chap,  xxi,  §§  42  ff. ;  Bk.  I, 
chap,  iii,  §  3 ;  Bk.  II,  chap,  xxviii,  §§  5  ff. 

2  See  passage  in  Locke's  Common- Place  Book,  first  published 
by  Lord  King,  The  Life  of  John  Locke,  pp.  292-293. 

8  Lord  King,  p.  304 ;  Fox  Bourne's  Life  of  Locke,  Vol.  I,  pp. 
163-165.  With  this  view,  Leibniz  (1646-1716)  practically  agrees. 
See  his  New  Essays,  translated  by  Langley,  Bk.  I,  chap,  ii,  §§  1, 
3 ;  Bk.  II,  chap,  xx,  §  2 ;  chap,  xxi,  §  42  ;  also  some  notes  published 
in  Erdmann's  edition  of  his  works  (Duncan's  translation,  p.  130). 


THEORIES  OF  THE  HIGHEST  GOOD        165 


he  says,  "  ijMivejmd^rsJto 

lead  us  the  same  jvray.  Duty  a.r>rl  ir>t,p.rp.at  ^,r^  per- 
fectly coincident  ;  for  the  most  part  in  this  world, 
but  entirely  and  in  every  instance  if  we  take  in  the 
future  and  in  the  whole  ;  this  being  implied  in  the 
notion  of  a  good  and  perfect  administration  of 
things."1  "It  may  be  allowejdjwitih.out  any  preju- 
dice to  the  cause  of  virtue,  and  ._  religion.,  that  our 
ideas  oi  Jiaj)piness  and  misery  are  of  all  our  ideas 
the  neao:est,,,ajid..jDgLO^t_im£prtjjat  Jjo  JIB.  .  .  .  Let  it 
be  allowed,  though  virtue  or  moral  rectitude  does 
indeed  consist  in  affection  to  and  pursuit  of  what 
is  right  and  good,  as  such,  yet,  that  when  we  sit 
down  in  a  cool  hour,  we  can.  neither.  ..justify  to  our- 
selves this.  .OJL  any  other  pursuiti  Jill  we^are  convinced 
that  it  will  be.foi:.Qiir-iiapninjass,  or.  at.  least  not  con- 
trary to  it,"2 

8.  Hutcheson.  —  Francis  Hutcheson  calls  an  action 
"materially  good  when  in  fact  it  tends  to  the  interest 
of  the  system,  so  far  as  we  can  judge  of  its  tendency, 
or  to  the  good  of  some  part  consistent  with  that 
of  the  system,  whatever  were  the  affections  of  the 
agent."  "An  action  is  formally  good  when  it  flowed 
from  good  affection  in  a  just  proportion."  But 
what  is  the  good  ?  "  That  action  is  best  which  pro- 
cures the  greatest  happiness  for  the  greatest  numbers, 
and  worst  which  in  like  manner  occasions  misery."3 

1  Sermon  iii,  end.  3  Sermon  xi. 

3  See  Martineau,  Types,  Vol.  II,  pp.  514  ff.;  Albee,  "Shaftes- 
bury  and  Hutcheson,"  Phil.  Review,  Vol.  V,  number  1. 


166  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

9.  Hume.  —  We  have  already  examined  David 
Hume's  doctrine  of  the  moral  sense.  W.eJ!e.eJjor  jDer- 
ceive  tlie  jighiaess  or 


kind  of  plftflfflire  prpgmijnjb.fi 
n-f-akfljfl.p.t,ftrs  and  actions,  in  consequence  of  which  we, 
calkthem  right  or  wrong..  Now  the  question  behind 
this  is,  Why-does  any,  action  or  sentiment,  "upon 
ffiw-eHJ  survey,"  gJYeJJii&.fiatk£actiQn  or 


uneasine^s^.2  In  other  words,  what  is  the  .  ultimate 
ground  of  moral-distinctions  ?  "  Qualities*'!.  .Hume 
answers,  "a.ftqmrft  aiir  appjobgjjon^ecause  of  .  their 
tendenicj:jto_ihe^QodL  jof  ..mankind  .  "  3  We-fed~fchat 
most  of 


of,  have  actually  that  tendency,  and  render  a  man  a 
proper  member  of  society  ;  while  the  qualities  which 
we  naturally  disapprove  of  ,  have  a  contrary  tendency 
and  render  any  intercourse  with  the  person  danger- 
ous or  disagreeable.  Moral  distinctions  arise,  in  'a 
great  measure,  from  the  tendency  of  the  qualities 
and  characters  to.  ..lJie-.ijitei^sts-^f--societyr.and  it  is 
for  t,ha,t  jrit.p.rp.st  which  makes  us  ap- 
e  of  them.  Now  we  have  no  such 

extensive,  concern  ^or  so^^J^-^iJEl^^^JI^P^IfeTT 
and   consecpently^  takes 

us  so  far  out  -of—  Gtffsel¥ea^.aa....ta..^iye  us  the  same 

in  the  characters   of  others, 


as  if  .they  had  a  tendency  to  our  t>w«r  advantage  or 

1  Treatise  on  Human  Nature,  Bk.  Ill,  Section  II. 

2  /&.,  Bk.  Ill,  Section  III,  end. 

8  Ib.,  Bk.  Ill,  Part  III,  Section  I;  Hyslop's  Selections,  p.  226. 


THEORIES  OF  THE  HIGHEST  GOOD        167 


lossJ.,    We  haYejLieelinff  for  the  happiness  of  man- 

kind, aiid-^jcejentm^ntjfbheir  miser^^2 

thing  which  contri 

recommends  .itselljiirectly  to  our  approbation  and 

good  willr3- 

10.  Paley.  —  According  to  William  Paley,  "  actions 
are  to  be  estimated  according  to  their  tendency. 
Whatever  is  expedient  is  right.  It  is  the  utility  of 
any  moral  rule  which  constitutes  the  obligation  of  it."4 
"  Virtue  is  the  doing  good  to  mankind,  in  obedience 
to  the  will  of  God,  and  for  the  sake  of  everlasting 
happiness."  5  God  wills  and  wishes  the  happiness  of 
His  creatures.  The  method  of  coming  at  the  will  of 
God  concerning  any  action,  by  the  light  of  nature, 
is  to  inquire  into  the  tendency  of  that  action  to  pro- 
mote or  diminish  the  general  happiness.6  Happiness 
does  not  consist  in  the  pleasures  of  sense,  for  these 
pleasures  continue  but  a  little  while  at  a  time,  lose 
their  relish  by  repetition,  and  are  really  never  en- 
joyed because  we  are  always  eager  for  higher  and 
more  intense  delights.  Nor  does  happiness  con- 

1  See  Hyslop,  p.  227  ;   also  Treatise,  Conclusion,  Section  VI  ; 
also  Inquiry  concerning  the  Principles  of  Morals,  especially  Sec- 
tion V. 

2  Inquiry,  Appendix  I. 

8  /&.,  Part  II,  Section  V.  See  also  Appendix  I,  v,  and  Treatise 
on  Human  Nature,  Bk.  II,  Part  III,  Section  I:  "The  chief  spring 
or  actuating  principle  of  the  human  mind  is  pleasure  or  pain  ;  and 
when  these  sensations  are  removed,  both  from  our  thought  and 
feeling,  we  are,  in  a  great  measure,  incapable  of  passion  or  action, 
of  desire  or  volition." 

4  Moral  Philosophy,  p.  38.          5  /&.,  p.  26.        6  J6.,  pp.  36  ff. 


168  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

gist  in  an  exemption  from  pain,  care,  business,  sus- 
pense, etc.,  nor  in  greatness  or  rank.  It  consists 
in  the  exercise  of  social  affections,  exercise  of  our 
faculties,  either  of  body  or  mind,  in  the  pursuit  of 
some  engaging  end,  in  the  prudent  constitution  of 
the  habits,  in  health.  Pleasures  differ  in  nothing 
but  continuance  and  intensity.1 

J.1  .    Bentham.  —  Jeremy  Bentham  also  makes  pleas-    ! 
ure   the   end   of   action.     "  Pleasure   is   in   itself   a 
good^na^r  the  only  good  ;  pain  is  in_  Jtgejf  .an  evil, 

the    Only_.evil."  2      "BVyaiyfbing    ft1PA    ig    gnnrl    nnly    in 

so  fer-~*w&JJLjDpjiduces  to  pleasure.  All  actions  ar_ft 
determined  by  p]p.flanrflg  a.-nH  pains,  anrf  are  to 
he  judged  by  the  same  _  sJia_ndard.  "  The  con- 
stantly proper  end  of  action  on  the  part  of 
every  individual  at  the  moment  of  action  is  his 
real  greatest  happiness  from  that  moment  to  the 
end  of  his  life."  What  kind  of  pleasure  shall  we 
choose?  Choose  those  pleasures  which  last  the 

rnnsf,    int.ftnsft     .reora.n3.Io«g^  nf 


The   quantity   of   plpaanre 


e4iial,_push-piii   is   as   good   as  poetrv."      In^esti- 
of    a.    pl^flanrp    f>r    a  —  pain,   w£ 


also  r-ong^flr)  bft.sides  the  intensity  and  dura- 

\\.R    fptf.flMt.y   nr   ti.^.p.rtainty  ^    its    2>rnpiM.quif,y    or 

remoteness,  its  femwditii  (uor  the  chance  it   has  of 
being  followed  by  sensations  of   the  same  kind"), 

1  Moral  Philosophy,  pp.  19  ff. 

2  Principles  of  Morals  and  Legislation,  chap,  x,  Bowring's  edi- 
tion, p.  102  ;  Springs  of  Action,  ii,  §  4  ;  Deontology,  Vol.  I,  p.  126. 


THEORIES  OF  THE  HIGHEST  GOOD        169 

or  Jgwrity  ("  or  ^ne  chance  it  has  of  not  being 
followed  by  sensations  of  the  opposite  kind"), 
and  likewise  its  extent,  —  that  is,  the  number  of 
persons  to  whom  it  extends  or  who  are  affected 
by  it.1 

My  own  happiness  jiepends  upon  the  happiness 
of  the-gi'nalesl  immbei,  i.e.,  the  conduct  most  con- 
ducive to  general  happiness  always  coincides  with 
that  which  conduces  to  the  happiness  of  the  agent.2 
inf.ftrp.flt  of  the  individual  to  strive 


general  happiness,  and  it  is  the  bmnneagjaf 
ethics  TJ-Q  poinfr4bift--fffri^-tfft  him,  "  To  prove  that  the 
immoral  action  is  a  miscalculation  of  self-interest,  to 
show  how  erroneous  an  estimate  the  vicious  man 
makes  of  pains  and  pleasures,  is  the  purpose  of  the 
intelligent  moralist."3 

12._J^?._JK^^John  Stuart  Mill4  accepts  the 
teaching  of  Bentham  in  a  somewhat  modified  form. 
Actions  are  right  in  proportion  as  they  tend  to  prb- 

1  Principles  of  Morals  and  Legislation,   chap,  iv,  pp.  29  ff. 
Bentham  expresses  his  scheme  in  the  following  lines.     I  presume 
he  supposed  that  at  some  future  time  the  school  children  would  be 
compelled  to  learn  them  off  by  heart  :  — 

**  Intense,  long,  certain,  speedy,  fruitful,  pure  — 
Such  marks  in  pleasures  and  in  pains  endure. 
Such  pleasures  seek,  if  private  be  thy  end  : 
If  it  be  public,  wide  let  them  extend. 
Such  pains  avoid,  whichever  be  thy  view  : 
If  pains  must  come,  let  them  extend  to  few." 

2  Ib.,  chap,  xvii,  p.  313.  8  Deontology. 

4  1806-1873.  Utilitarianism,  1861.  See  also  Analysis  of  the 
Phenomena  of  the  Human  Mind,  by  James  Mill. 


170  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

mote  happiness  ;  wrong,  as  they  tend  to  produce  the 
reverse  of  happiness.  By  happiness  is  intended  pleas- 
ure and  the  absence  of  pain;  by  unhappiness,  pain  and 
the  privation  of  pleasure.1  Some  kinds  of  pleasure, 
however,  are  more  desirable  and  more  valuable  than 
others.  Of  two  pleasures,  if  there  be  one  to  which 
all  or  almost  all  who  have  experience  of  both  give  a 
decided  preference,  irrespective  of  any  moral  obliga- 
tion to  prefer  it,  that  is  the  more  desirable  pleasure. 
Now  it  is  an  unquestioned  fact  that  those  who  are 
acquainted  with  all  pleasures  prefer  those  following 
the  employment  of  the  higher  faculties.  No  intelli- 
gent human  being  would  consent  to  be  a  fool,  no 
instructed  person  would  be  an  ignoramus,  no  person 
of  feeling  and  conscience  would  be  selfish  and  base, 
even  though  they  should  be  persuaded  that  the  fool, 
the  dunce,  or  the  rascal  is  better  satisfied  with  his 
lot  than  they  with  theirs.  "  It  is  better  to  be  a 
human  being  dissatisfied  than  a  pig  satisfied  ;  better 
to  be  a  Socrates  dissatisfied  than  a  fool  satisfied. 
And  if  the  fool  or  the  pig  is  of  a  different  opinion, 
it  is  because  they  only  know  their  own  side  of  the 
question.  The  other  party  to  the  comparison  knows 
both  sides."2 

However,  the  standard  is  not  the  agent's  own 
greatest  happiness,  but  the  greatest  amount  of  hap- 
piness altogether.3  "  As  between  his  own  happiness 
and  that  of  others,  utilitarianism  requires  him  (the 
agent)  to  be  as  strictly  impartial  as  a  disinterested 
1  Utilitarianism,  chap,  ii,  pp.  9, 10.  2  Ib.,  p.  14.  8  76. ,  p.  16. 


THEORIES  OF  THE  HIGHEST  GOOD        171 

and  benevolent  spectator.  In  the  golden  rule  of 
Jesus  of  Nazareth,  we  read  the  complete  spirit  of  the 
ethics  of  utility.  To  do  as  one  would  be  done  by, 
and  to  love  one's  neighbor  as  oneself,  constitute  the 
ideal  perfection  of  utilitarian  morality."1  It  is 
noble  to  be  capable  of  resigning  entirely  one's  own 
portion  of  happiness,  or  chances  of  it  ;  but,  after  all, 
this  self -sacrifice  must  be  for  some  end  ;  it  is  not 
its  own  end.  A  sacrifice  which  does  not  increase, 
or  tend  to  increase,  the  sum  total  of  happiness,  is 
wasted.2 

But  why  should  I  desire  the  "  greatest  happiness 
altogether  "  instead  of  my  own  greatest  happiness,  as 
the  standard  ?  Mill  is  somewhat  vague  and  indefi-  \ 
nite  on  this  point.  Each  person  desires  his  own 
happiness.  Each  person's  happiness  is  a  good  to 
that  person ;  and  the  general  ^happiness,  therefore,  a 
good  to  the  aggregate  of  all  persons.3  The  reason- 
ing here  seems  to  be  this :  Everybody  desires  his  own 
happiness.  -The  happiness  of  everybody  (every  par- 
ticular individual)  is  a  good  to  everybody  (to,  that 
particular  individual).  Hence  the  happiness  of 
everybody"  (that  is,  of  all,  "of  the  whole)  is  a  good  to 
everybody  (that  is,  to  every  particular  individual).4 
A  more  satisfactory  answer  is  given  to  the  question 
in  another  place.  I  have  a  feeling  for  the  happiness 
of  mankind,  "  a  regard  for  the  pains  and  pleasures  of 

1  Utilitarianism,  chap,  ii,  p.  24.        2  76.,  pp.  23  ff.        8  76. ,  p.  53. 
*  We  have  here  a  beautiful  example  of  the  logical  fallacy  of 
composition. 


172  .  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

others."  "  This  firm  foundation  is  that  of  the  social 
feelings  of  mankind;  the  desire  to  be  in  unity  with 
our  fellow-creatures,  which  is  already  a  powerful 
principle  in  human  nature,  and  happily  one  of  those 
which  tend  to  become  stronger,  even  without  express 
inculcation,  from  the  influences  of  advancing  civili- 
zation." 1  That  is,  I  desire  the  happiness  of  others,  * 
because  I  have  social  feelings,  or  sympathy. 

Both  Mill  and  Bentham,  therefore,  agree  that  the 
greatest  good  of  the  greatest  Dumber  is  the  goal  of  t 
a.o.tinn  sypd  the  standard  of  morality.  But  according 
to  Bentham,  self-interest  is  the  motive,  while  accord- 
ing to  Mill,  ^apathy  or  social  feeling  is  the  main. 
spring  of  morality. 

There  is,  however,  as  we  have  seen,  another  point 
of  difference  between  Bentham  and  Mill.  The 
former  regards  those  pleasures  as  the  best  which  last 
the  longest  and  are  the  most  intense,  making  no 
qualitative  distinction  between  them.  "  The  quan- 
tity of  pleasure  being  equal,  push-pin  is  as  good  as 
poetry."  Mill,  on  the  other  hand,  distinguishes  be-* 
tween  the  quality  of  pleasures;  some  are  more  desir- 
able and  more  valuable  than  others,  and  the  highest 
pleasures  are  to  be  preferred.  "  According  to  the 
Greatest  Happiness  Principle,"  he  declares,  "the 
ultimate  end  with  reference  to  and  for  the  sake  of 
which  all  other  things  are  desirable  (whether  we  are 
considering  our  own  good  or  that  of  other  people) 
is  an  existence  exempt  as  far  as  possible  from  pain, 
1  Utilitarianism,  chap,  ii,  p.  46. 


THEORIES  OF  THE  HIGHEST  GOOD        173 

and  as  rich  as  possible  in  enjoyments,  loth  in  point 
of  quantity  and  quality  ;  the  test  of  quality,  and  the 
rule  for  measuring  it  against  quantity,  being  the 
preference  felt  by  those  who,  in  their  opportunities 
of  experience,  to  which  must  be  added  their  habits  of 
self -consciousness  and  self -observation,  are  best  fur- 
nished with  the  means  of  comparison.  This,  being, 
according  to  the  utilitarian  opinion,  the  end  of 
human  action,  is  necessarily  also  the  standard  of 
morality;  which  may  accordingly  be  defined,  the 
rules  and  precepts  for  human  conduct,  by  the  observ- 
ance of  which  an  existence  such  as  has  been  described 
might  be,  to  the  greatest  extent  possible,  secured  to 
all  mankind;  and  not  to  them  only,  but  so  far  as  the 
nature  of  things  admits,  to  the  whole  of  sentient 
creation."  1 

1|>.  8idgwick_  and  Contemporaries. —  We  reach 
another  phase  of  the  theory  in  Henry  Sidgwick.2 
According  to  him,  the  greatest  happiness  is  the 
ultimate  good.3  By  this  is  meant  the  greatest  pos- 
sible surplus  of  pleasure  over  pain,  the  pain  being 
conceived  as  balanced  against  an  equal  amount  of 
pleasure,  so  that  the  two  contrasted  amounts  anni- 
hilate each  other  for  purposes  of  ethical  calculation.4 

There  are  certain  practical  principles  the  truth 
of  which,  when  they  are  explicitly  stated,  is  mani- 
fest.5 One  of  these  is  the  principle  of  rational  self- 

1  Utilitarianism,  chap,  ii,  p.  17. 

2  Born  1838.     The  Methods  of  Ethics,  1874. 

3  Methods,  pp.  391  ff.,  409  ff.          *  /&.,  p.  411.          *  /&.,  p.  379. 


174  INTRODUCTION-  TO  ETHICS 

love  or  prudence,  according  to  which  one  ought_to 
aim  at  one's_  own  happiness  or  pleasure,  as  a  whole  •, 
that  is,  reason  dictates  "an  impartial  concern  for 
all  parts  of  our  conscious  life,"  an  equal  regard 
for  the  rights  of  all  moments,  the  future  as  well 
as  the  present,  the  remote  as  well  as  the  near.  The 
present  pleasure  is  to  be  foregone  with  the  view  of 
obtaining  greater  pleasure  or  happiness  hereafter. 
"  Hereafter  is  to  be  regarded  neither  less  nor  more 
than  Now." 

Another  such  principle,  the  principle  of  the  duty 
of  benevolence,  teaches  that  the  good  of  any  one  in- 
dividual is  of  no  more  importance,  from  the  point 
of  view  of  the  universe,  than  the  good  of  any  other. 
One  is  morally  bound  to  regard  the  good  of  any 
other  individual  as  much  as  one's  own,  except  in 
so  far  as  we  judge  it  to  be  less,  when  impartially 
viewed,  or  less  certainly  knowable  or  attainable.  As 
a  rational  being  I  am  bound  to  aim  at  good  gen- 
erally, not  merely  at  a  particular  part  of  it.  When 
the  egoist  puts  forward,  implicitly  or  explicitly,  the 
proposition  that  his  happiness  or  pleasure  is  good,  not 
only  for  him,  but  from  the  point  of  the  universe  — 
as,  e.g.,  by  saying  that  "nature  designed  him  to  seek 
his  own  happiness,"  —  it  then  becomes  relevant  to 
point  out  to  him  that  his  happiness  cannot  be  a  more 
important  part  of  good  taken  universally,  than  the 
equal  happiness  of  any  other  person.  And  thus,  start- 
ing with  his  own  principle,  he  may  be  brought  to 
accept  universal  happiness  or  pleasure  as  that  which  is 


THEORIES  OF  THE  HIGHEST  GOOD        175 

absolutely  without  qualification  good  or  desirable  ;  as 
an  end,  therefore,  to  which  the  action  of  a  reasonable 
agent  as  such  ought  to  be  directed.1 

Another  principle  is  the  principle  of  justice  ;  wh&t- 
ever  aj^ionjij^^ 

self  he  implicitly  judges  to  be  right  for  all  similar 
persons  in  similar  circumstances.  It  cannot  be  right 
for  A  to  treat  B  in  a  manner  in  which  it  would  be 
wrong  for  B  to  treat  A  ;  merely  on  the  ground  that 
they  are  two  different  individuals,  and  without  there 
being  any  difference  between  the  natures  or  circum- 
stances of  the  two  which  can  be  stated  as  a  reasonable 
ground  for  difference  of  treatment.2  — — — - 


Other  contemporary  exponents  of  the  hedonis- 
tic school  are :  Alexander  Bain,3  Alfred  Barratt,4 
Shadworth  Hodgson,5  Herbert  Spencer,6  Georg  von 
Gizycki,7  and  Thomas  Fowler.8 

i  Methods,  p.  418.  2  p.  380. 

3  The  Senses  and  the  Intellect,  1856 ;  The  Emotions  and  the 
Will,  1859 ;  Mental  and  Moral  Science,  1868.     See  chap,  ii,  §  6  (7). 

4  Physical  Ethics,  1869.       5  Theory  of  Practice,  2  vols.,  1870. 

6  Principles  of  Ethics :  Part  I,  "The  Data  of  Ethics,"  1879; 
Part  II,  "The  Inductions  of  Ethics,"  1892  ;  Part  III,  "  The  Ethics 
of  Individual  Life,"  1892 ;  Part  IV,  "  Justice,"  1891.    "  There  is  no 
escape,"  says  Spencer,  "from  the  admission  that  in  calling  good 
the  conduct  which  subserves  life,  and  bad  the  conduct  which 
hinders  or  destroys  it,  and  in  so  implying  that  life  is  a  blessing, 
and  not  a  curse,  we  are  inevitably  asserting  that  conduct  is  good 
or  bad  according  as  its  total  effects  are  pleasurable  or  painful." — 
Data  of  Ethics,  chap,  iii,  p.  28. 

7  Grundzuge  der  Moral,  1883,  translated  by  Stanton  Coit ;  Mor- 
alphilosophie,  1889. 

8  Progressive  Morality,  1884 ;  Fowler  and  Wilson,  Principles  of 
Morality,  1886-1887. 


176  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 


/14/  General  Survey.  —  In  conclusion  let  us  briefly 
WfVey  the  history  of  the  theories  of  hedonism,  and 
note  their  development.  In  Greek  hedonism  the  ten- 
dency was  at  first  to  regard  bodily  pleasure  and  the 
•  pleasure  of  the  moment  as  the  highest  good  and 
motive  of  action  (Aristippus).  A  closer  study  of 
the  problem  led  to  the  gradual  modification  of  this 
conception.  Instead  of  the  pleasure  of  the  moment,  / 
the  pleasure  of  a  lifetime ;  instead  of  violent  pleas- 
ure, repose  of  spirit,  a  happy  frame  of  mind,  came 
to  be  regarded  as  the  ideal  of  conduct  (Theodorus, 
Democritus,  Epicurus) .  The  element  of  prudence 
or  reason  was  also  more  strongly  emphasized  in 
the  course  of  time.  It  was  pointed  out  that  hap- 
piness could  not  be  secured  without  prudence  or 
forethought ;  that  the  desire  for  pleasure  had  to 
\/  be  governed  by  reason  (Democritus,  Epicurus). 
Then  it  was  shown  that  mental  pleasures  were 
preferable  to  bodily  pleasures,  that  the  ideal  could 
not  be  realized  through  sensuous  enjoyment,  but 
only  by  the  exercise  of  the  higher  intellectual 
faculties  (Democritus,  Epicurus).  The  commonly 
accepted  virtues  were  also  included  among  the 
means  of  happiness,  and  a  moral  life  insisted  on  as 
necessary  to  the  realization  of  the  highest  good. 
Indeed,  the  controversy  between  hedonism  and  the 
opposing  school  finally  reduced  itself  to  a  dispute 
concerning  the  fundamental  principle  underlying 
morality  ;  botK^sc^ools_jimctically -  recommended 
the  same  manner  of  life,  one  because  it  led  to 


THEORIES  OF  THE  HIGHEST  GOOD        17? 
happiness,  the  other  because  it  tended  toward 


Ti  hedonists  make  the  standpoint  ultimately 
reached  by  the  Greeks  their  starting-point.  None 
of  them  asserts  that  pleasure  is  the  highest  good, 
without  modifying  the  statement  somewhat.  The 
element  of  prudence  or  reason  is  emphasized  Try- 
all.  Even  Bgn!E]Jfi$,  who  is  the  most  radicaT~fep- 
resentative  of  the  modern  school,  makeg  the  pleas- 

ure  of  a  lifetimejhfi-^nd,  and  insists  that  we  cannot 

•  ..  ._____.  -         —  ---  ,.^. 

reach-Jjiis  goal  mr^%out_exerciging  prudence.  They 
would  all  agree,  also,  that  the  goal  cannot  be 
reached  by  the  pursuit  of  sensuous  pleasure,  and 
that  the  exercise  of  the  mental  faculties  procures 
the  greatest  happiness*  - 

An  important  advance,  however,  is  made  by  the 
modern  advocates  of  the  theory.  Locke,  Paley,  and 
Bentham  still  incline  toward  egoistic  hedonism,  which 
was  so  prominent  in  the  Greek  systems  ;  the  highest 
good  is  the  happiness  of  the  individual,  though  this 
cannot  be  realized  except  through  the  happiness  of 
the  race.  Hutcheson,  Hume,  J.  S.  Mill,  and  Sidg- 
wick,  on  the  other  hand,  recognize  the  sympathetic 
impulse  in  man  as  a  natural  endowment  ;  the  highest 
good  is  the  happiness  of  the  race.  But  this  is  a 
difference  of  principle  only,  which  does  not  affect 
the  practice  of  human  beings  ;  both  systems  empha- 

1  In  Anniceris  we  even  get  a  slight  tendency  to  altruism  •  he 
advises  us  to  forego  our  pleasure  and  submit  to  pain  for  the  sake 
of  friends  and  country. 


178  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

size  the  necessity  of  doing  good  to  our  fellows,  the 
one  because  our  individual  happiness  depends  upon 
our  regard  for  our  neighbor,  the  other  because  man 
is  by  nature  disposed  to  care  for  the  good  of  his 
fellow-men. 

Another  important  change  is  made  in  modern 
hedonism  by  J.  S.  Mill.  According  to  him  pleasure  » 
I  is  the  highest  good  and  the  standard  of  morality.  I 
But  the  experience  of  the  race  teaches  that  some 
pleasures,  as,  for  example,  the  pleasures  accompany- 
ing the  exercise  of  our  higher  mental  faculties,  are 
preferred  to  others.  The  race  prefers  them,  how- 
ever, not  because  they  are  the  most  intense,  but 
because  they  differ  in  kind  or  quality  from  those 
accompanying  the  lower  functions.  Men  evidently 
prefer  these  pleasures  because  they  cannot  help 
themselves,  they  must  prefer  them,  they  prefer  them 
absolutely ;  it  is  their  nature  to  prefer  them.  The 
standard,  therefore,  is  not  pleasure  as  such,  but  a 
certain  quality  of  pleasure,  and  man  prefers  this 
quality  absolutely.1  Not  pleasure  as  such,  but  the 
higher  pleasures,  move  us  to  action.  Or,  rather, 
since  "it  is  better  to  be  Socrates  dissatisfied  than 
a  fool  satisfied,"  the  highest  good  is  really  not  pleas- 
ure so  much  as  the  exercise  of  the  higher  mental 
functions.  In  this  form  there  is  no  radical  differ- 
ence between  hedonism  and  energism.2 

1  This  view  reminds  one  of  Martineau's  theory  of  conscience. 
See  chap,  ii,  §  5,  p.  45. 

«  See  Paulsen,  Ethics,  Bk.  II,  chap,  ii,  end  of  §  6. 


THEORIES  OF  THE  HIGHEST  GOOD        179 

Not  only  do  we  get  in  Mill  an  approximation  to 
1  energism,  but  an  approximation  to  intuitionism. 
According  to  him  both  the  egoistic_jiid_altrnistic  or 
sympathfltin  impnlsej_ajcfi-JnnatQ,Qr,,original  posses- 
sions-of- the  liuman  soul.  Besides,  in  so  far  as  we 
make  a  qualitative  distinction  between  different 
pleasures,  absolutely  preferring  some  to  others,  we 
raay  be  said  to  possess  an  innate  knowledge  of  the 
better  and  the  worse,  or  an  innate  conscience.  In 
Sidgwick  this  intuitional  phase  is  more  pronounced. 
Man  is  endowed  with  innate  principles  :  the  prin- 
ciple of  self-love,  the  principle  of  benevolence,  and 
the  principle  of  justice. 


CHAPTER  VII 

THEORIES  OF  THE  HIGHEST  GOOD :    ENERGISM * 

1.  Socrates. —  Let  us  now  turn  our  attention  to  a 
school  of  thinkers  who  deny  that  pleasure  or  happi- 
ness is  the  end  of  life  and  the  standard  of  morality, 
and  set  up  what  they  at  least  believe  to  be  a  differ- 
ent goal. 

Socrates  2  opposed  the  hedonistic  teachings  of  the 
Sophists,  and  declared  virtue  to  be  the  highest  good. 
But  what  is  virtue  ?  Virtue  is  knowledge.3  We 
cannot  be  proficient  in  any  line  without  knowledge 
of  the  subject.  A  man  cannot  be  a  successful  general 
without  a  knowledge  of  military  affairs,  nor  a  states- 
man unless  he  has  an  insight  into  the  nature  and 
purpose  of  the  State. 

But  what  is  knowledge  ?  To  know  means  to  have 
correct  concepts  of  things,  to  know  their  purposes, 
aims,  or  ends,  to  know  what  they  are  good  for. 

1  See  references  under  chap.  ii. 

2  469-399  B.C.      See   Xenophon's  Memorabilia,,  translated  in 
Bohn's  Library ;  Plato's  Protagoras,  Apology,  Crito,  Symposium, 
etc.,  in  Jowett's  translation;  Aristotle's  Metaphysics,  Bk.  I,  6. 
Bibliography  in  Weber. 

8  Xenophon,  Memorabilia,  Bk.  IV,  chap,  vi,  11 ;  Bk.  I,  chap,  i, 
16;  Bk.  II,  chap,  ix,  5. 

180 


THEORIES  OF  THE  HIGHEST  GOOD        181 

Everything  has  its  purpose,  is  good  for  something, 
especially  for  man.1  If  that  is  so,  the  man  who 
knows  what  things  are  good  for  him,  will  do  these 
things,  and  he  alone  will  be  able  to  realize  his  de- 
sires, his  welfare  and  happiness.  Hence  knowledge 
or  wisdom  (o-cx/ua),  without  which  a  man  cannot 
attain  to  happiness  (ev  £?}z>,  ^SeW  £>r\v),  is  the  highest 
good  (fjLeyia-rov  a<ya66v).  That  is  to  say,  virtue  is 
the  knowledge  of  good  and  evil,  and  the  consequent 
doing  of  good,  and  the  avoidance  of  evil.  Hence 
no  man  is'  voluntarily  bad  nor  involuntarily  good. 
Vice  is  due  to  ignorance. 

Now  what  is  good  for  man  ?  What  is  useful  to 
him?  The  lawful  (PO/U/AOZ;),  says  Socrates.  Man 
must  obey  the  laws  of  the  State  as  well  as  the  un- 
written laws  of  the  gods,  i.e.,  the  universal  laws  of 
morality.  To  be  good  or  moral  is  to  be  in  harmony 
with  the  laws  of  one's  country  and  human  nature. 

Virtue  conduces  to  happiness.  But  should  a  con- 
flict arise  between  virtue  and  happiness,  virtue  must 
never  be  sacrificed  to  happiness.2 

2.^  Plato^ — Plato,3  the  pupil  and  follower  of  Soc- 
rates, teaches  that  ngt  pleasure,  but  insight,,  knowl- 
edge^ the  contemplation  of  beautiful  ideas,  a  life  of 
reason,  are  the  highest  good.4  We-  nhcmld  •£gekjbo 

1  Memorabilia,  Bk.  I,  chap,  iv,  7-17  ;  Bk.  IV,  chap,  iii,  3  ff. 

2  Bk.  II,  chap,  vii,  10 ;  Bk.  IV,  chap,  iv,  4 ;  Plato's  Apology, 
29,  30. 

8  427-347  B.C.    See  the  Dialogues  of  Plato,  especially  Thecetetus, 
Phcedo,  Philebus,  Gorgias,  Sepublic,  translated  by  Jowett. 
4  Gorgias,  474  c  ff.;  Philebus,  11  b,  14  6,  19  d. 


182  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 


from  thft  body  and  the  sensesT  for 


bgdy  is  a  fetter,  t.Tift  prispn-hnnsp.  of  t^e  annl.,  a.n 

"  Wherefore  we  ought  to  fly  away  from  earth  to 
heaven  as  quickly  as  we  can,  and  to  fly  away  is  to 
become  like  God."1  Philosophy  means  the  separa- 
tion and  release  of  the  soul  from  the  body,2  the 
losing  of  oneself  in  the  contemplation  of  ideas,  which 
are  'the  true  essences  of  things,  the  return  of  the  soul 
to  its  former  heavenly  home. 

Beside  this  ascetic  ideal  of  life,  Plafo  also  presents 
a  -.somewhat  modifier!  Pjthip.a.1  so-hem^  adapted  to 
the^conditions  of  the  world  in  which  we  live.3  The 
sense-world  being  a,  reflection  of  the  ideal  world^  the 
contemplation  of  it  will  give^ns  a  glimpap.  into 
truth  and  beauty  oJLth  P.  other.  No,w.  in 


whai4a4JieJiLgkest,  -good  ?  The  highest_good  must 
be  somettiing._j)erfecti4  something  that  does  not  need 
anything  outside  of  itself,  something  desirable  in 
itself,  something  the  possession  of  which  makes 
other  things  unnecessary.  Now  neither  pleasure  nor 
wisdom  as  such  is  a  good.  A  life  of  pleasure  devoid 
of  intelligence  and  wisdom  no  one  would  call  desir- 
able. Nor  would  any  one  choose  a  life  of  reason 
that  is  free  from  pleasure  and  pain.  The  end  is  a 
IM/cros  /3to9,  a  mixed  life  of  wisdom  and  pleasure.  In 
such  a  life  pleasure  is  not  the  highest  factor,  but  the 
lowest.  The  pleasure  must  be  controlled  by  wisdom. 

1  Thecetetus,  176  a.  2  Phcedo,  64-67,  69,  79-84,  114. 

8  See  Schwegler,  History  of  Greek  Philosophy,  pp.  228,  232. 
;  Philebus,  20  ff. 


THEORIES  OF  THE  HIGHEST  GOOD        18S 

Wisdom  produces  order,  harmony,  symmetry,  law. 
If  pleasure  were  the  highest,  then  the  most  intense, 
unbridled  pleasure  would  be  the  best,  which  is  not 
the  case.  The  best  life  is  one  in  which  the  lower 
soul-forces,  the  impulses  and  the  animal  desires,  are 
subordinated  to  reason,  one  in  which  reason  com- 
mands and  the  other  elements  obey. 

3.  The  Cynics.  —  After  the  death  of  Socrates, 
Antisthenes,1  one  of  his  most  devoted  followers, 
founded  the  Cynic  School,  named  after  the  gymna- 
sium of  Kynosarges,  where  he  delivered  his  lectures. 
The  Cynics  opposed  the  hedonism  of  the  Cyrenaics,2 
and  exaggerated  certain  phases  of  the  Socratic  doc- 
trine. Pleasure,  says  Antisthenes,  is  not  the  high- 
est good  ;  indeed,  it  is  no  good  at  all,  but  an  evil.3 
Then  what  is  the  good?  The  very  opposite  of  pleas- 
ure, 7roVo5,  privation,  exertion,  work,  struggle  with 
passion,  is  good.  We  should  make  ourselves  inde- 
pendent of  the  things  of  the  world  (ey/vptmur). 
The  man  who  sets  his  heart  on  pleasure,  wealth, 
honor,  or  fame,  is  doomed  to  disappointment.  Let 
him  renounce  the  uncertain,  treacherous  gifts  of  for- 
tune, let  him  be  indifferent  to  pleasure  and  pain 
alike ;  let  him  learn  to  want,  and  misfortune  cannot 
conquer  him.  Sweet  are  the  pleasures  that  follow 
labor.  Cease  desiring,  and  you  will  be  rich  even  in 

1  Diogenes  Laertius,  Bk.  VI ;    Mullach's  Fragments,  vol.  II, 
261  ff. ;  Hitter  and  Preller's  Fragments,  pp.  216  ff . 

2  See  chap,  vi,  §  3. 

8  "  I  would  rather  go  mad  than  feel  pleasure,"  as  he  once  said: 
fj.avirjv  fj.a\\ov  ^  Tja-deiifjv.  —  Diogenes  Laertius,  Bk.  VI. 


184  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

a  beggar's  garb.  To  desire  nothing  is  the  greatest 
wealth.  Virtue  is  the  highest  and  only  good.  It 
is  not,  however,  necessary  to  be  very  learned  to  be 
virtuous.  Virtue  consists  in  action  and  conduces  to 
happiness.1 

4._  Aristotle.  —  According  to  Aristotle,2  all  human 
n  view.     This  end  in  turn 


may  be  the  means  to  another  higher  end,  but_  there 
must  be  some.  .ultimate  or^Jhighest  -end  -.or  ...good, 
which-isjlesired  for  its  own  sake  and  not  as  a  means 
to  something  else.  Now  what  is  this  highest  good  ? 
For  some  it  consists  in  wealth,  for  others  in  pleasure, 
for  still  others  in  honor,  wisdom,  or  virtue.  But 
wealth  is  a  means  to  an  end,  not  an  end  in  itself. 
Pleasure,  too,  is  a  good,  but  not  the  good.  The 
truth  is  we  strive  after  honor,  pleasure,  virtue,  wis- 
dom, for  the  sake  of  something  else,  which  is  sought 
after  for  its  own  sake.  That  end  is  eudaemonia 


or  happiness.     In  what  does  happiness 
consist?     The  welfare  of  ,exe£y_beingjconsists  in  the 
realizatkui_ofjj&_g^  The  end  or  hap- 

piness of  man  will  therefore  consist  in  the  realiza- 
tion of  that  which  makes  man  a  man,  that  is,  in  the 
exercise  of  rational  activity.     The  highest  good  of. 
human  existence  is  Jiie  .exercise-  -of-^eaaoiL...... 

ie  proper  fiinotionjng__nf  the 


1  Diogenes  of  Sinope,  the  pupil  of  Antisthenes,  whom  Plato 
called  a  "Socrates  gone  mad,"  is  an  extreme  representative  of 
cynicism.     "A  man  must  not  only  learn  to  do  without  pleasure,"  I 
he  says,  "  he  must  learn  to  do  with  pain." 

8  386-323  B.C.    Nicomachean  Ethics,  translated  by  Welldon. 


THEORIES  OF  THE  HIGHEST  GOOD        185 


SOUl.       Now  the   P/^    iff       q^tl      rftfW.t.ivp  ar 


or  kaowing,  partl^:_¥xxlitionaL..^).r  practical.  Hence, 
there  are  dianoetical  virtues  (such  as  wisdom,  pru- 
dence, insight)  and  ethical  or  practical  virtues  (such 
as  liberality,  self-control,  courage,  pride,  magnanim- 
ity, etc.).  Ethical  vir^e_c^i3LsisJ^.in_the  subordi- 
nation of  t-h  ft  1  o  wqr.s.OTi'l  -f  orp^£*rjl™jnlggg  JiP^correct 
reason.  The  impulses  must  be  governed  or  con- 
trolled by  reason  or  insight.  Virtue^  is  acquired, 
but  based-  on^~pj£fi£isjj^^ 

*•'  Virtue  is  the  rationalization  of  impulses.  But  the 
question  arises,  When  is  an  impulse  rationalized? 
When  it  keeps  t^_jtn^jQ_Jb.etwjaeiL,..two.  extremes, 
answers-  Arrrstotle.  "  Virtue  is  a  disposition  involv- 
ing deliberate  purpose,  or  choice,  consisting  in  a 
mean  that  is  relative  to  ourselves,  the  mean  being 
determined  by  reason,  or  as  a  prudent  man  would 
determine  it."1  _ 

Virtuous  activity,  then,  in  a  complete  or  full  life 

_.  t/     7  .,  ....•.^J.H-  «««»»«.•»*»•«••••  «•  ......   m    i  JCL—  —  .  ___  ^.^  *mWL*njL-  ~i-^  •J'*""^" 

is  th^highest_good.2  Pleasure  is  the  necessary  and 
immediate  consequence  of  such  activity,  but  it  is  not 
the  end.  We  should  choose  virtuous  activity  even 
though  it  were  not  accompanied  by  pleasure.  The 
pleasure  depends  upon  the  virtuous  activity,  and 
only  such  pleasure  as  follows  virtuous  activity  is 
good  or  moral.3  Certain  external  goods,  however, 

1  Nicomachean  Ethics,  Bk.  II,  chap,  vi,  Welldon's  translation, 
p.  50. 

2  "  For  one  swallow  does  not  make  spring,"  Aristotle  adds. 

3  Nicomachean  Ethics,  Bk.  II,  chap.  ix. 


186  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

are  indispensable  to  eudaemonia,  namely  health,  free* 
dom,  honor ;  certain  capacities  and  talents ;  wealth, 
etc.  Neither  a  slave  nor  a  child  can  be  happy. 

5^  The  Stoics.- — The  Stoic  school,  founded  by 
Zeno  of  Citium  in  the  aroa  TroifctXrj,  shortly  after 
310  B.C.,  is  the  successor  of  the  Cynics.1  The  Stoics 
taught  that  the  .chief  good  is  to  Jivejiccording  to 
nature.  For  man  this  means  to  live  according  to 
his  nature,  i.e.,  according  to  reason,  "that  universal 
right  reason  which  pervades  everything."2  We  live 
according  to  nature  or  reason,  when  we  live  accord- 
ing to  virtue. 

Now  what  does  virtuous  action  demand  ?  It  de- 
mands that  man  conquer  his  passions,  for  passions 
are  the  irrational  element  in  us.  There  are  four 
fundamental  passions  (TrdOrf) :  pain,  fear,  desire, 
pleasure  (XUTTT?,  </>o'/3o9,  iiriQv^ia,  77801/77).  These 
passions  arise  as  follows:  We  have  impulses  which 
are  in  themselves  good,  like  the  impulse  of  self-pres- 
ervation. These  impulses  may  become  too  violent 
and  give  rise  to  a  false  judgment  on  our  part.  Such 
a  false  judgment  is  a  passion.  Thus  a  false  judg- 
ment of  present  and  future  goods  arouses  pleasure 
and  desire  ;  of  present  and  future  ills,  pain  and  fear. 
All  these  passions  and  their  different  species  we 
must  combat,  for  they  are  irrational ;  they  are  dis- 

1  See  Diogenes  Laertius,  Bk.  VII ;  Stobaeus,  Eclogues,  Bk.  II ; 
Cicero,  Definibus;  the  works  of  Seneca,  Epictetus,  Marcus  Aurelius ; 
Ritter  and  Preller,  pp.  392  ff. 

2  Diogenes  Laertius,  p.  291. 


THEORIES  OF  THE  HIGHEST  GOOD        187 

eases  of  the  soul.  It  is  not  enough  to  be  moderate  ; 
^apathy  is  the  only  proper  state  with  reference  to 
them.  The  wise  man  is  without  passion,  apathetic ; 
he  is  not  affected  by  fear,  desire,  pain,  or  pleasure. 
Virtue  tfip.rp.fm-fi,  is  identical  with  apathy.  /The 
*  passionlesa^sageJs  the  Stoic  ideal. 

Virtue  is  the  highest  a.nd  only  good,  yicp,  .thft.only 
evjl ;  everything  else  is  indifferent :  death,  sickness, 
poverty,  etc.,  are  not  evils;  life,  health,  honor, 
possessions,  are  not  goods.  Even  the  pleasure 
produced  by  virtue  (%«/o«)  is  not  an  end,  but  merely 
the  natural  consequence  of  virtuous  action.1  The 
wise  man  is  the  virtuous  man,  because  he  knows 
what  to  do  and  what  to  avoid. 

Tfop.  Sf-.m'p.  ftffhiffi*  exercised  a  great  influence  upon 
Roman  thought  and  action.  As  the  most  illustrious 
representatives  of  the  school  in  later  times  we  may 
mention :  Cicero,2  Lucius  Annseus  Seneca,3  Epicte- 
tus^JMarcus  Aurelius  Antoninus,  the  Emperor.5 

6.  The  Neo-Platonists.  —  According  to  the  later 
Platonists  or  Neo-Platonists,  the  universe  is  an 

1  Strict  adherents  of  the  school  do  not  even  admit  that  pleasure 
is  a  consequence. 

2  t  43  B.C.     De  Jinibus  bonorum  et  malorum.     English  trans- 
lation in  Bohn's  Library. 

3  t  65  A.D.     Letters  to  Lucilius.     English  translation  of  Seneca 
in  Bohn's  Library. 

4  Born  about  60  A.D.     His  teachings  were  preserved  by  Flavius 
Arrianus  in  the  Encheiridion,  or  Manual.    English  translation  by 
Long. 

5  Died  180  A.D.    TWV  e/$  eaurdv  j8t/3\ta.     English  translation  by 
Long. 


188  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

emanation  from  God,  the  absolute  spirit,  who  trans* 
cends  everything  that  can  be  conceived  or  said. 
All  the  way  from  intelligence  to  formless  matter  the 
emanations  become  more  and  more  imperfect.  Mat- 
ter is  the  very  lowest  in  the  stage  of  being,  devoid 
of  form,  the  principle  of  all  imperfection  and  evil  in 
the  world.  Yet  matter  is  necessary.  Just  as  light 
must  in  the  end  become  darkness  at  the  farthest  dis- 
tance from  its  origin,  so  spirit  must  become  matter. 
But  everything  that  has  come  from  God  strives  to 
return  to  Him  again. 

Man  is  the  mirror  of  the  universe,  the  microcosm, 
mind  and  matter,  good  and  bad.  The  highest  good 
is  the  pure  intellectual  existence  of  the  soul,  "in 
which  the  soul  has  no  community  with  the  body,  and 
is  wholly  turned  toward  reason,  and  restored  to  the 
likeness  of  God."1  The  highest  aim  of  man  is  to 
become  one  with  God  and  the  supra-sensuous  world, 
to  lose  himself  in  the  absolute.  To  quote  from 
Weber's  History  of  Philosophy : 2  "  The  artist  seeks 
for  the  idea  in  its  sensible  manifestations;  the 
lover  seeks  for  it  in  the  human  soul;  the  philoso- 
pher, finally,  seeks  for  it  in  the  sphere  in  which  it 
dwells  without  alloy,  —  in  the  intelligible  world  and 
in  God.  The  man  who  has  tasted  the  delights  of 
meditation  and  contemplation  foregoes  both  art  and 
love.  The  traveller  who  has  beheld  and  admired  a 

1  Plotinus,  the  chief  representative  of  the  school,  seemed  to  be 
ashamed  of  having  a  body. 

2  English  translation,  pp.  178-179. 


THEORIES  OF  THE  HIGHEST  GOOD        189 

royal  palace  forgets  the  beauty  of  the  apartments 
when  he  perceives  the  sovereign.  For  the  philoso- 
pher, beauty  in  art,  nay,  living  beauty  itself,  is  but  a 
pale  reflection  of  absolute  beauty.  He  despises  the 
body  and  its  pleasures  in  order  to  concentrate  all  his 
thoughts  upon  the  only  thing  that  endures  forever. 
The  joys  of  the  philosopher  are  unspeakable.  These 
joys  make  him  forget,  not  only  the  earth,  but  his 
own  individuality ;  he  is  lost  in  the  pure  intuition  of 
the  absolute.  His  rapture  is  a  union  (eVaxm)  of  the 
human  soul  with  the  divine  intellect,  an  ecstasy,  a 
flight  of  the  soul  to  its  heavenly  home.  As  long  as 
he  lives  in  the  body,  the  philosopher  enjoys  this 
vision  of  God  only  for  certain  short  moments, — 
Plotinus  had  four  such  transports,  —  but  what  is  the 
exception  in  this  life  will  be  the  rule  and  the  normal 
state  of  the  soul  in  the  life  to  come.  Death,  it  is 
true,  is  not  a  direct  passage  to  a  state  of  perfection. 
The  soul  which  is  purified  in  philosophy  here  below 
continues  to  be  purified  beyond  the  grave  until  it  is 
divested  of  individuality  itself,  the  last  vestige  of  its 
earthly  bondage."  In  short,  the  highest  happiness 
consists  in  being  united  with  the  supra-sensible. 
We  must,  therefore,  withdraw  ourselves  from  the 
world  of  sense,  free  ourselves  from  the  body,  become 
ascetics. 

We  have  in  this  philosophy  an  exaggerated  edition 
of  Platonism.  If  the  highest  good  is  mind  or  intel- 
lectuality or  the  supra-sensuous,  then  the  sooner  we 
get  away  from  the  body  the  better.  If  the  body  is 


190  INTRODUCTION-  TO  ETHICS 

the  prison,  the  fetter,  the  chain,  the  pollution  of  the 
soul,  the  sooner  we  free  ourselves  from  it  the  better.1 

7^  Hobbes. — Let  us  now  turn  to  modern  times. 
According  to  Thomas  Hobbes,2  every  living  being 
strives  to  preserve  itself.  It  seeks  everything  that 
furthers  this  end,  avoids  everything  that  defeats  it. 
But  the  end  is  not  always  realized.  The  individual 
does  not  realize  the  end  because  other  individuals 
having  the  same  purpose  in  view  come  in  conflict 
with  him.  The  impulse  of  self-preservation  thus 
produces  a  war  of  all  against  all,  bellum  omnium  con- 
tra omnes,  and  so  really  defeats  itself.  Prudence 
therefore  demands  the  formation  of  the  State,  in 
which  the  individual  subordinates  his  own  will  to 
the  general  will,  thus  making  life  possible.  In  the 
State  peace  and  security,  the  conditions  of  self-pres- 
ervation, are  realized.  The- highest  end^is  therefore 
self-preservation,  or  life,  of  wMeh-tke-Sttbto  ia  %he 
n^eans.3 

8.  Spinoza.  —  From  this  view  the  ethical  system 
of  Spinoza4  does  not  much  differ.  He  too  holds 

1  With  these  ascetic  tendencies  in  Plato  and  his  successors, 
primitive  Christianity  had  much  in  common.     Christianity  was  for 
a  long  time  an  ascetic  religion.     It  preached  the  crucifixion  of  the 
flesh.     This  world  was  regarded  as  a  vale  of  tears,  as  a  grave,  and 
heaven  as  the  soul's  true  home.     For  the  Christian  conception  of 
life,  see  the  excellent  chap,  ii,  Bk.  I,  in  Paulsen's  Ethics. 

2  See  chap,  ii,  §6  (1). 

3  See  Leviathan,  especially  chaps,  vi,  xiii,  xiv. 

*  1632-1677.      Ethics,   translated  by  White ;  also  in  Bonn's 

Library.     Selections  from  Ethics,  translated  by  Fullerton.    For 

bibliography,  see  Weber's  History  of  Philosophy.  See  also  Fuller- 
ton,  On  Spinozistic  Immortality. 


THEORIES  OF  THE  HIGHEST  GOOD        191 

that  every  being  strives  to  preserve  its  own  exist- 
ence or  essence.1  "As  reason  makes  no  demands 
contrary  to  nature,  it  demands  that  every  man 
should  love  himself,  should  seek  that  which  is  useful 
to  him  —  I  mean,  that  which  is  really  useful  to  him, 
should  desire  everything  which  really  brings  man  to 
greater  perfection,  and  should,  each  for  himself, 
endeavor  as  far  as  he  can  to  preserve  his  own  being. 
This  is  as  necessarily  true  as  that  a  whole  is  greater 
than  a  part.  Again,  as  virtue  is  nothing  else  but 
action  in  accordance  with  the  laws  of  one's  own 
nature,2  and  as  no  one  endeavors  to  preserve  his 
own  being,  except  in  accordance  with  the  laws  of  his 
own  nature,  it  follows,  first,  that  the  foundation  of 
virtue  is  the  endeavor  to  preserve  one's  own  being, 
and  that  happiness  consists  in  man's  power  of  pre- 
serving his  own  being ;  secondly,  that  virtue  is  to  be 
desired  for  its  own  sake,  and  that  there  is  nothing 
more  excellent  or  more  useful  to  us,  for  the  sake  of 
which  we  should  desire  it ;  thirdly  and  lastly,  that 
suicides  are  weak-minded,  and  are  overcome  by  exter- 
nal causes  repugnant  to  their  nature.  Further,  it 
follows  that  we  can  never  arrive  at  doing  without  all 
external  things  for  the  preservation  of  our  being  or 

1  Ethics,  Part  III,  prop.  vi. 

2  76.,  Part  IV,  prop,  xx :  "  The  more  every  man  endeavors,  and 
is  able  to  seek  what  is  useful  to  him  —  in  other  words,  to  pre- 
serve his  own  being  —  the  more  is  he  endowed  with  virtue  ;  on  the 
contrary,  in  proportion  as  a  man  neglects  to  seek  what  is  useful  to 
him,  that  is,  to  preserve  his  own  being,  he  is  wanting  in  power." 
See  also  Part  IV,  prop.  xxiv. 


192  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

living,  so  as  to  have  no  relations  with  things  which 
are  outside  of  ourselves.  Again,  if  we  consider  our 
mind,  we  see  that  our  intellect  would  be  more  imper- 
fect, if  mind  were  alone,  and  could  understand  noth- 
ing besides  itself.  There  are,  then,  many  things 
outside  ourselves,  which  are  useful  to  us,  and  are, 
therefore,  to  be  desired.  Of  such  none  can  be  dis- 
cerned more  excellent  than  those  which  are  in  entire 
agreement  with  our  nature.  For  if,  for  example,  two 
individuals  of  entirely  the  same  nature  are  united, 
they  form  a  combination  twice  as  powerful  as  either 
of  them  singly.  Therefore,  to  man  there  is  nothing 
more  useful  than  man  —  nothing,  I  repeat,  more  ex- 
cellent for  preserving  their  being  can  be  wished  for 
by  men,  than  that  all  should  so  in  all  points  agree, 
that  the  minds  and  bodies  of  all  should  form,  as  it 
were,  one  single  mind  and  one  single  body,  and  that 
all  should,  with  one  consent,  as  far  as  they  are  able, 
endeavor  to  preserve  their  being,  and  all  with  one 
consent  seek  what  is  useful  to  them  all.  Hence,  men 
who  are  governed  by  reason  —  that  is,  who  seek  what 
is  useful  to  them  in  accordance  with  reason  —  desire 
for  themselves  nothing  which  they  do  not  also  desire 
for  the  rest  of  mankind,  and,  consequently,  are  just, 
faithful,  and  honorable  in  their  conduct." 1  Now,  "  in 
life  it  is  before  all  things  useful  to  perfect  the  under- 
standing, or  reason,  as  far  as  we  can,  and  in  this  alone 
man's  highest  happiness  or  blessedness  consists,  in- 
deed blessedness  is  nothing  else  but  the  contentment 
1  Ethics,  Part  IV,  prop,  xviii  note. 


THEORIES  OF  THE  HIGHEST  GOOD        193 

of  the  spirit,  which  arises  from  the  intuitive  knowl-  , 
edge  of  God :  now,  to  perfect  the  understanding  is 
nothing  else  but  to  understand  God,  God's  attributes, 
and  the  actions  which  follow  from  the  necessity  of 
His  nature." 1  "  The  mind's  highest  good  is  the  knowl- 
edge of  God,  and  the  mind's  highest  virtue  is  to 
know  God.  "2 

9.  Cumberland. — Both  Richard  Cumberland  and 
Lord  Shaftesbury  also  place  the  highest  good  in  wel- 
fare, not  in  the  welfare  of  the  individual,  however, 
but  in  the  common  good,  by  which  they  mean  not 
pleasure,  but  perfection.3  Cumberland  says  :  "  The 
endeavor,  to  the  utmost  of  our  power,  of  promoting 
\  the  common  good  of  the  whole  system  of  rational 
agents,  conduces,  as  far  as  in  us  lies,  to  the  good  of 
every  part,  in  which  our  own  happiness,  as  that  of  a 
part,  is  contained.  But  contrary  action  produces 
contrary  effects,  and  consequently  our  own  misery, 
as  well  as  that  of  others."4  "The  greatest  possible 
benevolence  of  every  rational  agent  toward  all  the 
rest  constitutes  the  happiest  state  of  each  and  all,  so 
far  as  depends  on  their  own  power,  and  is  necessa- 
rily required  for  their  happiness ;  accordingly  com- 

1  Ethics,  Part  IV,  Appendix  iv. 

2/&.,  Part  IV,  prop,  xxviii.  Translations  taken  from  Bonn's 
Library  Edition. 

8  Richard  Cumberland,  1632-1719,  De  legibus  natures,  1672 ; 
translated  into  English  by  Jean  Maxwell,  1727.  See  E.  Albeef 
"The  Ethical  System  of  Richard  Cumberland,"  Philosophical  He- 
view,  1895.  For  Shaftesbury,  see  chap,  ii,  §  4  (1). 

*  See  Albee,  "  The  Ethical  System  of  Richard  Cumberland." 


194  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

mon  good  will  be  the  supreme  law."  Again,  "The 
happiness  of  each  individual  ...  is  derived  from  the 
best  state  of  the  whole  system,  as  the  nourishment 
of  each  member  of  an  animal  depends  upon  the 
nourishment  of  the  whole  mass  of  blood  diffused 
through  the  whole."  The  common  good  being  the 
end,  "  such  actions  as  take  the  shortest  way  to  this 
effect  ...  are  naturally  called  'right,'  because  of 
their  natural  resemblance  to  a  right  line,  which  is 
the  shortest  that  can  be  drawn  between  any  two 
given  points,  .  .  .  but  the  rule  itself  is  called 
right,  as  pointing  out  the  shortest  way  to  the 
end." 

10.  Shaftesbury '.  — Shaftesbury1  finds  in  man  two  ' 
kinds  of  impulses  :  "  selfish  or  private  affections," 
(and  "natural,  kind,  or  social  affections."  The  self- 
\ish  affections  are  directed  toward  the  individual 
welfare  or  preservation,  "  private  good  " ;  the  social 
affections,  toward  common  welfare,  the  preservation 
of  the  system  of  which  the  individual  forms  a  part, 
"public  good."  Just  as  the  health  or  perfection  of 
a  bodily  organism  consists  in  the  harmonious  coope- 
ration of  all  its  organs,  so  the  health  or  perfection  of 
the  soul  consists  in  the  harmonious  cooperation  of 
the  selfish  and  social  affections.  An  individual  is 
good  or  virtuous  when  all  his  inclinations  and  affec- 
tions conduce  to  the  welfare  of  his  species  or  the 
system  of  which  he  is  a  part.  Virtue  is  the  proper 
balance  or  harmony  between  the  two  impulses. 
1  See  chap,  ii,  §  4  (1). 


THEORIES  OF  THE  HIGHEST  GOOD        195 

But  how  can  we  tell  whether  our  impulses  are 
properly  balanced?  By  means  of  the  moral  sense, 
as  we  have  already  seen,1  the  sense  of  right  and 
wrong,  the  rational  affections.  The  moral  sense  is 
original  or  innate,  like  the  other  affections.  Just 
as  the  contemplation  of  works  of  art  arouses  feelings 
of  disinterested  approbation  and  disapprobation,  so 
the  contemplation  of  human  acts  and  impulses, 
whether  of  others  or  ourselves,  arouses  feelings  of 
approval  and  disapproval. 

Since  man  is  originally  a  social  being,  he  derives 
his  greatest  happiness  from  that  which  makes  for 
the  existence  of  society  and  the  common  weal.  The 
necessary  concomitant  of  virtue  is  happiness,  just 
as  pleasure  accompanies  the  right  state  of  the 
organism. 

11.  Darwin?  —  The  modern  evolutionists  agree 
with  this  conception.  I  quote  a  passage  from  Dar- 
win's Descent  of  Man :  "  In  the  case  of  the  lower  ani- 
mals it  seems  much  more  appropriate  to  speak  of 
their  social  instincts  as  having  been  developed  for 
the  general  good  rather  than  for  the  general  happi- 
ness of  the  species.  The  term  general  good  may  be 
defined  as  the  rearing  of  the  greatest  number  of  indi- 
viduals in  full  vigor  and  health,  with  all  their  facul- 
ties perfect,  under  the  conditions  to  which  they  are 
subjected.  As  the  social  instincts  both  of  man  and 
the  lower  animals  have  no  doubt  been  developed 
by  nearly  the  same  steps,  it  would  be  found  advis- 

i  Chap,  ii,  §  4  (1).  a  See  chap,  ii,  §  7  (2). 


196  INTRODUCTION-  TO  ETHICS 

able,  if  found  practicable,  to  use  the  same  definition 
in  both  cases,  and  to  take  as  the  standard  of  moral- 
ity the  general  good  or  welfare  of  the  community 
rather  than  the  general  happiness.  .  .  .  When  a 
man  risks  his  life  to  save  that  of  a  fellow-creature,  it' 
seems  also  more  correct  to  say  that  he  acts  for  the 
general  good,  rather  than  for  the  general  happiness 
of  mankind.  No  doubt  the  welfare  and  the  happi- 
ness of  the  individual  usually  coincide  ;  and  a  con- 
tented, happy  tribe  will  flourish  better  than  one 
that  is  discontented  and  unhappy.  We  have  seen 
that  even  at  an  early  period  in  the  history  of  man, 
the  expressed  wishes  of  the  community  will  have 
naturally  influenced,  to  a  large  extent,  the  conduct 
of  each  member ;  and  as  all  wish  for  happiness,  '  the 
greatest  happiness  principle'  will  have  become  a 
most  important  secondary  guide  and  object ;  the 
social  instinct,  however,  together  with  sympathy 
(which  leads  to  our  regarding  the  approbation  and 
disapprobation  of  others),  having  served  as  the 
primary  impulse  and  guide.  Thus  the  reproach  is 
removed  of  laying  the  foundation  of  the  noblest  part 
of  our  nature  in  the  base  principle  of  selfishness  ; 
unless,  indeed,  the  satisfaction  which  every  animal 
feels,  when  it  follows  its  proper  instincts,  and  the  dis- 
satisfaction felt  when  prevented,  be  called  selfish."1 
12.  Stephen.  —  Leslie  Stephen  2  defines  the  moral 
law  "  as  a  statement  of  the  conditions  or  of  a  part  of 

1  Descent  of  Man,  chap,  iv,  Part  I,  Concluding  Remarks. 
8  The  Science  of  Ethics,  1882. 


THEORIES  OF  THE  HIGHEST  GOOD        197 

the  conditions  essential  to  the  vitality  of  the  social 
tissue."1  Our  moral  judgments  must  condemn 
instincts  and  modes  of  conduct  which  are  pernicious 
to  the  social  vitality,  and  must  approve  the  opposite ; 
but  it  does  not  necessarily  follow  that  it  must  dis- 
approve or  approve  them  because  they  are  per- 
ceived to  be  pernicious  or  beneficial.2  It  is  essential 
to  social  vitality  that  actions  result  from  inner  feel- 
ings. Hence  the  moral  law  has  to  be  expressed  in 
the  form,  "  Be  this,"  not  in  the  form  "  Do  this." 

The  utilitarian  theory,  which  makes  happiness  the 
criterion  of  morality,  coincides  approximately  with 
the  evolutionistic  theory,  which  makes  health  of  the 
society  the  criterion ;  for  health  and  happiness 
approximately  coincide.  We  may  infer  that  the 
typical  or  ideal  character,  at  any  given  stage  of 
development,  the  organization,  which,  as  we  say, 
represents  the  true  line  of  advance,  corresponds  to  a 
maximum  of  vitality.3  It  seems,  again,  this  typical 
form,  as  the  healthiest,  must  represent  not  only  the 
strongest  type,  —  that  is,  the  type  most  capable  of 
resisting  unfavorable  influences,  —  but  also  the  hap- 
piest type  ;  for  every  deviation  from  it  affords  a 
strong  presumption,  not  merely  of  liability  to  the 
destructive  processes  which  are  distinctly  morbid, 
but  also  to  a  diminished  efficiency  under  normal 
conditions.4 

1  The  Science  of  Ethics,  1882,  chap,  iv,  ii,  p.  148. 

2  76.  s  /&.,  p.  406. 

4  Ib. ,  p.  407.     See  chap,  ix,  pp.  359  ff . ;  also  chap,  x,  pp.  404  ff. 


INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

13.  Jhering.  —  Rudolph  von  Jhering l  advances  a 
similar  view.  All  moral  laws  and  customs  have  as 
their  end  the  weal  and  prosperity  of  society.  All 
moral  norms  are  social  imperatives.  All  these  social 
imperatives  owe  their  existence  to  social  ends.  The 
ends  of  society  depend  upon  its  conditions.2  The 
purpose  of  morality  is  the  establishment  and  prosper- 
ity of  society.3  Now,  just  as  a  house  is  not  a  mere 
mass  of  stones,  society  is  not  a  mere  aggregate  of 
individuals,  but  a  whole  made  up  of  individual  mem- 
bers, and  formed  into  a  unity  by  a  community  of 
ends.  The  part  must  adapt  itself  to  the  whole  if 
the  whole  is  to  stand.  Hence  the  postulate  of  a 
social  norm  which  prescribes  to  the  individual  such 
conduct  as  is  necessary  to  the  social  order  in  so  far 
as  his  own  inclinations  do  not  serve  society,  and  the 
necessity  of  securing  compliance  with  the  norm  by 
means  of  compulsion.  But  mere  mechanical  or 
legal  compulsion  is  not  enough.  We  have  also  psy- 
chological compulsion.  The  advantage  of  psycho- 
logical compulsion  lies  in  the  fact  that  it  stops 
before  no  relation  in  life ;  it  presses  in  everywhere 
like  the  atmosphere,  into  the  interior  of  the  home  as 
well  as  to  the  steps  of  the  throne  —  in  places  where 
mechanical  compulsion  can  have  no  effect. 

We  may  say  that  whatever  human  conduct  is 
necessary  to  the  existence  of  society  is  a  constituent 
of  the  moral  order  and  falls  within  the  realm  of 

1  Der  Zweck  im  Becht,  2  vols,  1874. 

*  JZ>.,  Vol.  II,  pp.  96  ff.  *  /&.,  Vol.  II,  pp.  134  ff. 


THEORIES  OF  THE  HIGHEST  GOOD        199 

moral  law.  As  now  the  individual  is  necessary  to 
society,  whatever  is  required  that  he  may  live,  even 
eating  and  drinking,  comes  under  the  view  of  morals. 
Even  acts  which  spring  from  egoistic  motives  are 
objectively  moral  when  they  further  the  ends  of 
society.  Even  our  pleasures,  recreations,  and  enjoy- 
ments have  high  objective  moral  significance,  for 
they  are  the  indispensable  sources  of  our  strength, 
and  this  benefits  not  merely  us,  but  society. 

One  thought  runs  through  all  creation  —  self- 
preservation.  Man  raises  himself  up  to  the  moral 
plane  when  he  gains  the  insight  that  his  individual 
self-preservation  is  conditioned  by  his  social  self- 
preservation.  The  means  which  nature  employs  in 
order  to  realize  the  law  of  self-preservation  is  pleas- 
ure. The  necessary  condition  of  pleasure  is  well- 
being.  Well-being  is  possession  of  full  powers. 
The  striving  after  well-being  is  called  eudsemonism. 
Social  eudtemonism  is  the  principle  of  morals. 
Wherein  the  weal  and  happiness  of  society  consists, 
the  history  of  mankind  alone  can  evolve.  Eudse- 
monism and  utilitarianism  are  the  same  thing,  from 
different  points  of  view,  the  former  from  that  of  end, 
the  latter  from  that  of  means.1 

14.  Wundt  and  Contemporaries.  — Wundt 2  reaches 
a  similar  result.  He  holds  that  the  proper  way  to 
investigate  the  moral  end  is  to  begin  with  the  em- 
pirical moral  judgments.  Find  the  moral  end  in 

1  Der  Zweck  im  Becht,  Vol.  II,  chap,  ix,  pp.  204  ff. 

2  Ethics,  translated  in  3  vols. 


200  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

particular  cases,  and  by  means  of  them  proceed  to 
the  general  ethical  principle.  Such  an  investigation 
will  show  that  the  individual,  be  it  oneself  or 
another,  cannot  be  the  ultimate  end  of  morality. 
Happiness  may  be  an  important  motive  to  the  will 
and  even  an  indispensable  means  for  realizing  the 
moral  ends,  but  it  cannot  be  regarded  as  the  moral 
end  itself.  The  universal  spiritual  productions  of 
humanity,  such  as  the  State,  art,  science,  and  univer- 
sal culture,  are  the  objects  of  morality  attainable  by 
us.  But  since  the  very  essence  of  morality  is  a 
ceaseless  striving,  the  moral  steps  attained  must  not 
be  regarded  as  a  lasting  end.  The  ultimate  end  of 
moral  striving  becomes  an  ideal  never  to  be  attained 
in  reality.  Thus  the  ethical  ideal  is  the  ultimate 
end;  the  progressive  moral  perfection  of  humanity 
the  immediate  end,  of  human  morality.1 

To  the  same  school  belong  H.  Hoffding,2  F. 
Paulsen,3  Th.  Ziegler,4  A.  Dorner,5  J.  Seth,6  and 
others. 

lii  TTrmfr*  —  Even  Kant,7  who  regards  himself  as 
an  opponent  of  all  teleology,  may,  in  my  opinion,  be 
classed  among  the  energists.  According  toJiimr-the 

.  m  nw™  nor 


that  nf-.mfrnldiailr-Lii.t.  virtue,  duty  for  duty's  sake. 


1  Ethics,  Part  III. 

2  Ethik,  1887  ;  Ethische  Principienlehre,  1897. 

8  System  of  Ethics,  edited  and  translated  by  Frank  Thilly. 

4  Sittliches  Sein  und  sittliches  Werden. 

6  Das  menschliche  Handeln. 

6  A  Study  of  Ethical  Principles.  7  See  chap,  ii,  §  7  (1). 


THEORIES  OF  THE  HIGHEST  GOOD        201 


The  highest  good  in  the  world  is.  a,  good 
good  will  is  good  not  T^ftfiansp  of  what/  i 
buLgood  in  itself.     That.is,  it  acts  from  respect-xd 
thB  1a.wt  from  a.  pnpft  apngp.  ^  dirty  .  i     No  w  rational 
creatures  alone  have  the  faculty  of  acting  according 
to  the_£anception  oLlaws,  i.e.,  according  to  principles, 
i.e.,  have  a  will.2'     Th&  conception  of  an  objective 

fnr   a.  wi117  is 


called__a_command  (of  reason),  and  t-hft  form^a.  of 
the   commajid^jLS^^  Ttyere  is 

an  imDeffitiya  which  commando  a  oor4a4a 


immediately  . 
action,  _or  its  intend  P^ 
prinpiplp  of  whiffh  it  fa  jtself  the  result,4  JThis  is 
the  __  fiatftjornrifiai  imperative.  In  order  that  this 
should  be  valid,  it  must  be  a  necessary  truth.  ^This 

from  t.h  p.  .  very  nature  of  the 


rational  will.5  If  Jbhrn^i^JLOylhing  of  absolute 
wnrijjhxa.n  find  in  itself,  the  reason  must  command  it.6 
Now  rflitinnflj  nature  exists  as  an  end  in  itself. 
Every  man  nftoonnnrrily  nr>n^ftiyp^  hifi  Owr>  fiyiatannft 
as  an  pnd  in  ifp^lf,  t^nd  mnstf  t^^^fore  regard^very 
other  ratiMft^CTeattii^B  ujLialeuue  in  the  aaiim  way. 
Hence  t.ha  wiU  must  give  itself  this  law^  So__act  as 
to  treat  humaiiityT  -whether..  in.  thine  .-own-  -person  or 
in  that  of  ^ny-^ether-,4n-  every  case  -as  an  end  withal, 
never  as  a  means  .only.  This  .principle  is  essentially 
identical  with  this  other  :  Act  upon  a  maxim  wJaich, 

1  Abbott's  translation,  pp.  12,  16,  55,  164  ff.,  180,  241. 

2  p.  29.          »  p.  30.  *  p.  33.          5  p.  44.          e  pp<  46  ff, 


202  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

at  the  same  time,  involves  its  own  .imiy^raa.1 1  v 
for  every  rational  beiug.1  For  if  I  am  only  to  act 
so  that  my  acts  can  become  universal,  I  cannot  will 
to  use  any  other  rational  creature  as  a  means  with- 
out willing  that  he  use  me  as  a  means.  Xti£  rational 

Will  thp.rftfnrp.  imposfts  universal   la.ws,  la.wa  tJ1g±Jirj/l 

for  aJU Jaws  acceptable  to  all,  which- makes  possible 
SL  kingdom  rtf  ay^fl.2  Every  rational  being  must  so 
act  as  if  he  were  by  his  maxims  in  every  case  a 
legislating  member  in  the  universal  kingdom  of 
ends.3 

Translated  into  popular  language,  this  ethical  phi- 
losophy of  Kant's  seems  to  me  to  agree  with  the 
systems  which  we  have  just  been  considering.  ^O^n- 
science  categorically  commands  certain,  forms  °iC 
conduct,  regardless_jof _their_  jffects*  JVjien  we 
fiyf!:!?J!!^-~S^fc!!lM-^f  nondnnfr .  jpinjoinpd  by-  r^n- 
sciencej  we^fuid.  .that  a  common^inciple  is  applicable 
tqjill ;  th4^ja&jalL#£ Jbr_s^nifithiiig^4hey» ^.- coa.- 
duce  to  an  end  ..or  highest  good,  —  something  of  ab- 
solute worth,  something  absolutely  desired  by  human 
nature,.  oji.asJ^jiJLstates .  .itv.8ftn^^n^jha^reason 
or .the  cate^oxicj^imperative  commands.  No w_ what 
is  this_end  ?  It  seems  to  be  the  good  of  society. 
"So  act  that  thou  canst  will  the  maxim  of  thy 
action  to  become  universal  law."  That  is,  do  not 
lie  and  steal,  for  thou  canst  not  will  that  lying  and 
stealing  become  universal.  Why  not  ?  "  For  with 
such  a  law  there  would  be  no  promises  at  all,  since 

1  Abbott's  translation,  p.  66.  a  p.  62.  8  p.  67. 


THEORIES  OF  THE  HIGHEST  GOOD        203 

it  would  be  in  vain  to  allege  my  intention  in  regard 
to  my  future  actions  to  those  who  would  not  believe 
this  allegation,  or  if  they  over-hastily  did  so  would 
pay  me  back  in  my  own  coin.  Hence  my  maxim,  as 
soon  as  it  should  be  made  a  universal  law,  would 
necessarily  destroy  itself."  The  ^implication  here 

seems  to  be  JhM.  .sjoci^ if  .the 

principles  underlyJiig--.certaia^acts-.-should  become 
universal. 

Kajlt  q] SO  d ftftl fl.yp.s  _  that-  £V-£-Ey  — mflJ>—  nenp.ssfl.r i  1  y 
conceives^. his_own  existence  as  an  end  in  itself. 
This  means  that  every--4»€«u.liaa..e^oistic  impulses. 
And  because  he.J&..eg&iB&e~-he  mnst-4mre-a-~du-e-  re- 
gard for  others,  he  must  treat  them  with  respect, 
for  otherwise  he  cannot  expect  them  to  treat  him 
with  respect.  This  is  what  he  means  when  he  says, 
So  act  as  to  treat  humanity,  whether  in  thine  own 
person  or  in  that  of  any  other,  in  every  case  as  an 
end  withal,  never  as  a  means  only.  This  is  a  philo- 
sophical statement  of  the  command,  Do  unto  others 
as  you  would  have  them  do  unto  you.  The  king- 
dom of  ends  would  be  impossible  unless  every  man 
cared  for  his  own  welfare  and  that  of  his  fellows ; 
therefore  such  principles  of  morality  are  implanted 
in  his  heart  as  to  make  a  kingdom  of  ends  possible.1 

16.  G^nerM  fituruey.  —  In  conclusion,  let  us  note 
the  progress  which  has  been  made  in  the  history  of 
the  theory  discussed  in  this  chapter.  The  Greek 

1  Compare  with  this  Sidgwick's  system,  as  given  in  chap,  vi, 
§13. 


204  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

energists  regarded  as  the  highest  good,  the  exer- 
cise of  reason,  or  the  development  of  knowledge, 
and  tended  to  ignore  the  emotional  and  impulsive 
factors  of  the  soul-life.  Modern  energists  gener- 
ally take  a  broader  view  of  the  highest  good, 
denning  it  not  merely  as  the  exercise  of  the  in- 
tellectual functions,  but  as  the  preservation  and 
development  of  life  as  a  whole.  Happiness  as  a 
phase  of  soul-life  receives  its  appropriate  place  as 
a  part  of  the  end  or  highest  good,  and  the  the- 
ory of  energism  more  closely  approximates  hedo- 
nism. Pleasure  is  a  means  to  the  end  of  perfection, 
an  accompaniment  of  virtuous  action,  a  sign  that 
the  goal  is  being  realized.  The  altruistic  element 
is  also  gradually  introduced  into  the  modern  con- 
ception of  energism.  The  preservation  and  de- 
velopment of  the  race  is  looked  upon  as  the  ideal  of 
life  and  the  standard  of  morality.  Man  is  no  longer 
conceived  as  striving  merely  for  his  own  individual 
perfection  and  happiness,  but  for  the  good  of  the 
whole.  Sympathy  takes  its  place  by  the  side  of 
self-love  as  a  natural  endowment  of  the  soul.1  In 
the  evolutionistic  school  we  also  get  a  closer  approxi- 
mation to  intuitionism.  Man  strives  after  the  preser- 
vation and  perfection  of  himself  and  his  fellows ;  and 
;  conscience  is  largely  an  inherited  instrument  in  the 
service  of  this  ideal  or  goal.  It  demands  what  is  good 
for  man  as  a  member  of  society ;  it  is  the  expression 
of  the  general  will  in  the  individual  heart. 
1  Compare  chap,  vi,  §  14. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

CRITIQUE  OF  HEDONISM* 

1.  The  Conception  of  the  Highest  G-ood. —  Our  his- 
torical review  has  shown  us  that  there  are  different 
answers  to  the  question,  What  is  the  end  of  life  and 
the  standard  of  morality?  One  school  holds  that 
pleasure  —  all  the  way  from  sensuous  pleasure  to 
intellectual  pleasure,  and  all  the  way  from  the 
pleasure  of  the  individual  to  the  pleasure  or  hap- 
piness of  humanity— -  is  the  highest  good.  An- 
other combats  this  notion,  and  sets  up  as  the 
end,  not  pleasure,  but  virtue,  knowledge,  perfec- 
tion, self-preservation,  or  the  preservation  of  society. 
We  pointed  out  the  fact  that  the  Greeks  concerned 
themselves  with  the  question  of  the  highest  good, 
while  the  modern  thinkers  formulate  the  problem 
in  a  somewhat  different  manner,  asking,  What  is 
the  ground  of  moral  distinctions ;  what  makes  an 

1  For  criticism  of  hedonism,  see  Plato,  Philebus  and  Republic, 
Bk.  IX ;  Aristotle,  Ethics ;  Kant,  Abbott's  translation ;  Darwin, 
Descent  of  Man,  chap,  iv ;  Lecky,  European  Morals,  chap,  i ; 
Sidgwick,  Methods,  Bk.  I,  chap,  iv ;  Bradley,  Ethical  Studies,  III, 
VII;  Green,  Prolegomena  to  Ethics,  Bk.  II,  chap,  ii ;  Bk.  Ill, 
chaps,  i,  iv ;  Bk.  IV,  chaps,  iii,  iv  ;  Martineau,  Types,  Vol.  II ; 
Murray,  Handbook  of  Ethics,  Bk.  II,  Part.  I,  chap,  i ;  Simmel, 
Einleitung,  Vol.  I,  chap,  iv ;  Hyslop,  Elements,  pp.  349-385 ; 
Paulsen,  Ethics,  pp.  250  ff. 

205 


206  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

act  right  or  wrong ;  what  is  the  criterion,  or  stand- 
ard,  or  ideal  of  conduct,  called  moral? 

Let  us  now  examine  the  answers  which  have  been 
given  to  the  question  as  the  ancient  Greeks  asked  it, 
and  try  to  reach  some  conclusion  with  respect  to  it. 

And  first,  let  us  inquire,  What  do  we  mean  by  the 
summum  bonum  or  the  highest  good  ? 

We  may  mean  by  the  summum  bonum:  (1)  some- 
thing which  humanity  prizes  as  the  most  valuable 
thing  in  the  world,  something  of  absolute  worth, 
for  the  sake  of  which  everything  else  that  is  desired 
is  desired.  We  may  say:  (a)  that  humanity  con- 
sciously and  deliberately  sets  up  this  good  as  its  goal 
or  ideal;  or  (5)  that  men  are  urged  to  action  by 
this  good,  that  this  good  is  the  motive  of  all  action 
without  being  clearly  and  distinctly  conceived  as 
an  ideal. 

Or  we  may  mean,  not  that  men  consciously  or 
unconsciously  strive  after  a  certain  end,  but  (2)  that 
a  certain  end  or  result  is  realized  in  human  conduct. 
This  end  or  result  may  be  desired  by  some  intelli- 
gence outside  of  man,  or  it  may  be  a  purely  mechani- 
cal consequence  of  the  laws  of  nature.  Thus  we  may 
find  that  a  certain  organ  in  the  body  realizes  a  certain 
end,  that  it  serves  a  certain  purpose,  without  desiring 
that  purpose,  or,  in  fact,  knowing  anything  about  it. 
We  may  attempt  to  explain  this  by  saying  that  the 
purpose  was  desired  by  an  intelligence  outside  or 
inside  of  the  organ, — which  would  lead  us  into 
metaphysics,  —  or,  that  it  was  simply  the  effect  of 
certain  natural  conditions. 


CRITIQUE  OF  HEDONISM  207 

Or  the  proposition  may  mean,  not  that  a  certain 
end  or  ideal  is  desired  by  humanity,  nor  that  it  is 
realized  by  humanity,  but  (3)  that  humanity  ought 
to  desire  it.  * 

Let  us  turn  to  the  hedonistic  theory  and  examine 
it  in  the  light  of  the  preceding  reflections. 

2.  Pleasure  as  the  Highest  Good.  —  According  to 
the  hedonistic  theory,  pleasure  is  the  highest  good  or 
end.  Let, us  take  this  to  mean  that  all  human  beings 
strive  after  pleasure.  By  pleasure  we  may  mean  posi- 
tive or  active  pleasure,  or  freedom  from  pain,  repose 
of  spirit,  peace  of  mind ;  sensuous  pleasure,  or  intel- 
lectual pleasure  ;  the  pleasure  of  self,  or  the  pleasure 
of  others;  momentary  pleasure,  or  the  pleasure  of 
a  lifetime.  Now  if  the  theory  maintains  that  all 
men  strive  after  pleasures  of  sense,  that  these  are 
the  highest  good,  it  cannot  be  upheld.  Men  do  not 
desire  sensuous  pleasures  in  preference  to  all  others. 
We  may  say  that  they  desire  both  kinds  of  pleasure, 
and  that  if  any  are  preferred,  it  is  the  so-called  higher 
pleasures  rather  than  the  others.  With  the  progress 
of  civilization,  the  race  comes  to  care  more  for  intel- 
lectual and  moral  pleasures  than  for  the  so-called 
bodily  enjoyments.  This  truth  has  been  recognized 
by  such  hedonists  as  Democritus,  Epicurus,  Mill, 
Sidgwick,  and  others.  Again,  if  the  theory  means 
by  pleasure  the  pleasure  of  the  moment,  it  can  be 
easily  refuted.  Indeed,  perhaps  no  hedonist,  not 
even  Aristippus,  ever  recommended  that  we  sacrifice 
the  future  to  the  present.  It  does  not  require  much 


208  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

experience  to  discover  that  certain  pleasures  are  fol- 
lowed by  pain,  and  that  a  whole  life  may  be  wrecked 
by  the  pleasure  of  a  moment.  "Der  Wahn  ist  kurz, 
die  Reu'  ist  lang. "  Rational  creatures  are  able  to 
judge  of  the  future  by  the  past,  and  will,  therefore, 
be  willing  to  forego  a  present  pleasure  and  even  to 
accept  a  present  pain,  for  the  sake  of  a  more  enduring 
future  pleasure. 

(1)  Let  us  interpret  the  theory  to  mean  that  men 
universally   strive    after    pleasure,   using  the   term 
pleasure   in   the  widest  and  most   favorable  sense. 
Now,  if  we  are  to  understand  by  this  that  every 
human  being  consciously  sets  up  as  the  ideal  of  his 
conduct,  pleasure  or  happiness,  or  freedom  from  pain, 
and  systematically  compares  all  his  acts  with  this 
standard,  selecting  such  as  tend  to  produce  pleasure 
and  rejecting  the  opposites,  the  theory  cannot  stand. 
It  cannot  be  proved  that  all  men  have  clear  ideals  of 
life,  and  that  they  govern  their  lives  in  consistent 
harmony  with  them.      Much  less  can  it  be  proved 
that  this  ideal  is  pleasure.     We  cannot  imagine  the 
average  man  as   saying  to   himself,    Does   this   act 
agree  with  my  ideal  of  life;  will  this  mode  of  con- 
duct be  in  harmony  with  my  ideal  of  pleasure  ? 

(2)  But  perhaps  his  acts  are  determined  by  pleas- 
ure after  all,  though  he  may  not  know  it  until  he  | 
begins  to  reflect  upon  his  states  of  consciousness. 
That  is  to  say,   the   hedonistic   theory  may   teach, 
All  human  acts  are  prompted  by  pleasure  ;  the  desire 
to  get  pleasure  and  to  avoid  pain  is  the  principle 


CRITIQUE  OF  HEDONISM  209 

governing  all  conduct;  pleasure  is  the  only  motive 
of  action.  Stated  in  this  form  the  problem  is  a 
psychological  problem,  and  must  be  solved  by  the 
science  of  psychology.  We  shall  therefore  have  to 
investigate  the  psychology  of  action  before  we  can 
give  a  satisfactory  answer  to  the  question  under 
discussion. 

3.  The  Antecedents  of  Action.  —  The  first  ques- 
tion which  we  shall  ask  ourselves  here  is  this,  What 
are  the  psychical  antecedents  of  action,  i.e.,  the  states 
of  consciousness  leading  to  an  act  or  movement? 
What  takes  place  in  consciousness  before  a  man 
acts  or  moves,  in  consequence  of  which  he  is  said 
to  act?1 

(1)  Sometimes  movements  occur  without  being 
preceded  by  any  conscious  states.     The  movements 
governing   circulation   and   metabolism   are  largely 
reflex  or  mechanical;   they  are  not  under  the  con- 
trol of  consciousness,  and  not  even  accompanied  by 
consciousness.       Other   reflex   movements,  like   the 
contraction  of  the  pupil  regulating  the  amount  of 
light  received  by  the  retina,  likewise  belong  to  this 
category.2 

(2)  In  other  cases  reflex  movements  are  followed 
or    accompanied    by    conscious    states.      A    strong 
atmospheric  concussion   may  cause   a  violent  shock 
in  my  entire  nervous  system,  producing  widespread 
movements,  and  arising  in  consciousness  as  a  loud 

1  See  the  standard  works  on  psychology. 

2  See  Jodl,  Lehrbuch  der  Psychologic,  p.  416. 

F 


210  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

sound.  Here  it  is  not  the  sensation  of  sound  that 
produces  the  movements ;  nay,  what  produces  the 
former  at  the  same  time  produces  the  latter. 

(3)  Sometimes  movements  follow  conscious  states 
immediately.  Certain  psychical  states  are  accom- 
panied or  followed  by  movements  in  the  body  over 
which  we  have  no  control,  and  movements  of  the  body, 
which  we  may  learn  to  control.  Let  us  look  at  some 
of  these. 

(a)  The  perception  or  thought  of  certain  things 
may  be  accompanied  or  followed  by  intra-organic 
changes  of  all  kinds  (in  the  vasomotor,  circula- 
tory, respiratory  systems,  in  the  digestive  appara- 
tus, etc.),  as  well  as  by  more  pronounced  physical 
reactions,  such  as  laughing,  weeping,  screaming, 
etc.,  movements  of  attack  and  defence,  gestures, 
exclamations,  facial  movements,  etc.  Sometimes, 
especially  in  children,  the  mere  sight  of  a  move- 
ment leads  to  imitative  movements.  In  all  these 
cases  a  fixed  path  seems  to  have  been  formed  be- 
tween certain  brain  parts  and  certain  muscles, 
which  are  transmitted  from  generation  to  genera- 
tion. We  might  call  such  movements  instinctive. 

(5)  Often  the  mere  perception  or  thought  of  a 
movement  or  object  is  followed  by  a  movement 
which  has  been  learned,  without  the  intervention 
of  any  other  psychical  element.  A  person  may, 
upon  seeing  a  piano,  begin  to  play  in  an  almost 
mechanical  way,  or  grasp  at  an  object  before  him 
without  really  intending  to  do  so.  Or  his  thought 


CRITIQUE  OF  HEDONISM  211 

may  be  followed  by  incipient  movements  of  the  vocal 
organs,  without  his  having  the  slightest  knowledge 
of  what  is  taking  place.1  A  strong  association  seems 
to  have  been  formed,  by  practice,  between  certain 
ideas  and  certain  movements,  so  that  when  the 
former  arise  in  consciousness,  the  latter  immediately 
follow.  Whenever  a  movement  follows  immediately 
upon  an  idea,  the  action  is  called  idea-motor.2 

(c)  Again,  we  may  have  the  idea  of  a  move- 
ment plus  a  feeling  of  pressure  toward  it.  Here 
the  whole  soul  seems  to  thrust  itself  in  the  direc- 
tion of  a  certain  movement.  This  process  is 
attended  with  pleasurable  feelings,  which  easily 
change  into  pain,  when  the  pressure  becomes  too 
great,  or  when  the  impulse  to  perform  the  move- 
ment is  balked.  The  physiological  condition  of 
the  pressure  feeling  is  most  likely  the  energy 
stored  up  in  the  brain  cells  (which  produces  the 
movement)  together  with  the  excitations  caused 
in  the  brain  by  muscular  movements  accompanying 
attention.  The  sight  of  a  person  who  has  insulted 
me  may  arouse  in  me  a  strong  desire  to  strike  him. 
I  feel  that  I  have  to  hold  myself  back,  as  it  were, 

1  Steinthal  calls  attention  to  the  contagious  effect  of  the  move- 
ments of  the  Flagellants,  Tarantella  dancers,  etc.,  in  this  connec- 
tion.     Motions  become  contagious.      When  thousands  cry  mve 
VEmpereur,  the  Republican  and  Bourbon  cannot  resist.    We  can 
recall  no  movements  without  repeating  the  respective  innervations. 
This  explains  actions  performed  by  men  who  fear  them,  —  hurling 
oneself  from  a  tower,  etc.     Steinthal' s  Ethik,  pp.  330  ff. 

2  See  Carpenter,  Mental  Physiology,  and  others. 


212  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

and  the  more  I  restrain  myself  the  more  I  feel 
impelled  to  strike  the  blow.  Here  almost  any  move- 
ment will  afford  relief.  We  might  call  these  acts' 
impulsive  acts. 

(d)  At  other  times  a  feeling  of  pleasure  or  a  feel- 
ing of  pain,  or  an  anticipation  of  pleasure  or  pain, 
seems  to  push  itself  in  between  the  idea  and  the  act. 
This  means  simply  that  the  idea  is  suffused  with 
pleasure  or  pain,  and  that  no  movement  will  take 
place  until  these  feelings  are  present.      I  make  a 
movement ;  it  gives  me  pleasure  and  I  continue  it, 
or  it  produces  pain,  and  I  stop  it  or  make  another. 
Or  I  think  of  a  movement  to  be  made,  expect  it  to 
be  pleasurable,  and  therefore  make  it. 

(e)  Most  frequently  many  of  these  states  together, 
i.e.,  ideas,  feelings  of  pressure,  feelings  of  pleasure, 
feelings  of    aversion,  feelings  of   pain,  precede  the 
discharge  of  a  movement. 

(4)  In  all  cases  mentioned  above,  the  act  takes 
place  without  the  intervention  of  a  so-called  decision 
of  the  will.  Let  us  now  examine  states  in  which 
this  element  enters. 

The  question  here  is, — What  are  the  elements  in- 
volved in  willing  as  such,  and  what  are  the  antece- 
dents leading  to  an  act  of  will,  i.e.,  what  makes  men 
will  what  they  will  ?  What  takes  place  in  conscious- 
ness when  I  will  something,  and  what  has  taken 
place  there  before  I  willed  it  ? 

Let  us  take  a  typical  case  of  willing,  one  which 
everybody  would  accept  as  such.  I  am  considering 


CRITIQUE  OF  HEDONISM  213 

a  certain  end  or  result,  be  it  a  specific  act,  or  a  whole 
series  of  acts,  or  a  train  of  thought.  I  have  in  con- 
sciousness the  idea  of  an  end  or  purpose  or  project  or 
something  that  has  not  yet  been  done,  but  may  be 
done.  The  end  may  be  a  vague  one  ;  I  may  have 
nothing  but  a  hazy  outline  of  the  result  to  be 
achieved,  or  it  may  be  clearly  defined ;  I  may  have 
worked  it  out  carefully,  even  to  the  details.  I  may 
be  said  to  will  this  end  or  result  when  I  assume  a 
certain  attitude  toward  it,  when  I  decide  that  it  shall 
be  done,  when  I  utter  the  fiat ;  or  decide  that  it  shall 
not  be  done,  or  utter  the  veto.  In  the  one  case  I  say 
yes,  in  the  other  no.  A  peculiar  state  of  conscious- 
ness surrounds  the  idea  of  the  result,  a  state  of  con- 
sciousness to  which  I  give  expression  in  language 
by  saying,  I  will;  my  mind  is  made  up.  We  call 
this  state  of  consciousness  or  process  in  which  the 
ego  decides  for  or  against  the  realization  of  an  idea, 
an  act  of  will.1  Ziehen  calls  this  state  which 
accompanies  the  idea  of  an  act  in  willing,  "  a  positive 
emotional  tone."2  Perhaps  we  had  better  speak  of 
it,  however,  as  decision,  as  an  attitude  of  the  ego 
toward  its  project.3  Hoffding  defines  it  as  follows: 
"  Volition  proper  is  characterized  psychologically  by 

1  By  will  I  do  not  mean  a  substantial  entity,  a  metaphysical 
essence  or  force  that  produces  the  act  (Schopenhauer),  but  simply 
the  process  itself  which  introspection  reveals  to  us. 

2  See  Introduction  to  Physiological  Psychology,  chap,  xiv,  pp. 
265  ff. 

8  James  speaks  of  it  as  the  voluntary  flat,  the  volitional  man- 
date, the  mental  consent. 


214  INTRODUCTION-  TO  ETHICS 

the  ideas  of  the  end  of  the  action  and  the  means  to 
its  realization,  and  by  a  vivid  feeling  of  the  worth  of 
that  end."1 

The  drama  of  willing  is  closed  when  this  peculiar 
process  enters.  It  makes  no  difference  whether  the 
thing  willed  is  ever  realized  or  not.  I  may  will  to 
pursue  a  certain  line  of  conduct,  and  afterwards 
change  my  mind  about  it.  I  may  will  to  perform  an 
act  and  never  have  an  opportunity  of  doing  it,  or  I 
may  will  it  and  find  that  I  have  not  the  power  to 
carry  it  out.  I  have  willed  it  when  I  have  decided 
that  I  am  going  to  do  it,  when  it  has  received  my 
sanction.  If  the  act  willed  is  a  possible  one,  it  will 
follow  the  act  of  will,  the  decision,  as  soon  as  the  ideas 
of  the  movements  to  be  made  (the  kinsesthetic 
ideas,  as  they  are  called  by  the  psychologists)  or  the 
ideas  initiating  these  movements  (the  remote  ideas, 
as  James  calls  them)  arise  in  consciousness.  We  are 
utterly  in  the  dark  as  to  how  the  process  takes  place ; 
we  simply  know,  for  example,  that  when  we  will  to 
move  the  arm,  it  moves,  and  when  we  will  to  move 
the  ear,  it  does  not  move.2  The  essential  element  in 
an  act  of  will  is  this  fiat  or  veto,  this  volitional  man- 

1  Psychology,  pp.  308-356.     See  Steinthal's  Eihik :  "Will  is  the 
conscious  idea  whose  realization  is  approved  of  because  its  result, 
the  caused  alteration  in  the  external  world,  is  also  presented  and 
desired." 

2  All  that  we  can  do  is  to  show  how  such  kin  aesthetic  ideas  are 
produced,  and  that  when  they  are  present  in  consciousness  they 
may  be  accompanied  by  movements.     See  the  psychologies  of 
Lotze,  Bain,  Preyer,  Baumann,  James,  which  show  how  we  learn 
to  make  movements. 


CRITIQUE  OF  HEDONISM 

date,  the  decision  or  "  cutting  short  of  the  process  of 
deliberation,"  this  determination,  selective  volition, 
or  choice.1  Unless  this  element  is  present,  we  cannot 
be  said  to  will  in  the  common  sense  of  that  term. 
Movements  may  be  made,  however,  without  the 
presence  of  this  factor.  Not  all  the  acts  performed 
by  us  are  willed  in  the  sense  in  which  we  have  just 
spoken  of  willing  ;  not  every  conscious  act,  in  other 
words,  is  a  willed  act.  Instincts,  impulses,  desires, 
ideo-motor  action,  etc.,  are  not  acts  of  the  will ; 
they  are  not  necessarily  willed,  though,  of  course, 
they  may  be.  In  order  to  be  willed  in  the  real  sense 
of  the  term,  they  need  the  consent  or  assent  we  have 
spoken  of.  We. frequently  perform  acts  impulsively 
and  excuse  ourselves  by  saying  that  we  did  not  intend 
them,  that  we  could  not  help  ourselves.2 

4.    The  Antecedents  of  Volition.  —  We  have  found 
thus  far  that  men  are  prompted  to  action  by  their 

1  See  Ladd's  Psychology,   Descriptive   and  Explanatory,  pp. 
613  ff. 

2  It  has  become  customary  in  modern  psychology  to  extend  the 
term  will  so  as  to  make  it  synonymous  with  psychic  energy.    It  is 
held  that  attention  is  involved  in  every  state  of  consciousness,  that 
no  state  can  come  to  consciousness  or  be  kept  in  consciousness 
without  an  act  of  attention.     Just  as  a  certain  amount  of  physical 
energy  must  be  present  in  the  brain  before  an  excitation  can  be 
produced  there,  so  a  certain  amount  of  psychical  energy  must 
be  present  in  consciousness  before  a  state  of  consciousness  can 
arise.     This  energy,  or  force,  is  called  by  Schopenhauer  will,  by 
Wundt  and  his  followers  will,  attention,  apperception,  or  conation. 
According  to  this  view,  every  mental  act  is  an  act  of  will,  and 
every  physical  movement  that  is  preceded  by  consciousness  is  the 
same.    We  have  preferred  to  use  the  term  will  in  a  narrower  sense. 


216  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

ideas,  feelings,  instincts,  impulses,  will,  and  combina- 
tions of  these  factors.  We  cannot  say  that  feelings 
of  pleasure  are  the  only  motives  to  action.  But 
perhaps  feelings  of  pleasure  are  the  only  motives 
to. willed  action,  in  the  sense  in  which  we  have  been 
using  this  term.  Let  us  therefore  investigate  the 
antecedents  of  willing  or  volition  a  little  more 
closely. 

Let  us  ask,  What  causes  me  to  decide  for  or 
against  a  project  or  end,  or,  rather,  what  happens  in 
my  consciousness  prior  to  the  decision  or  fiat  ? 

Sometimes  the  bare  idea  of  an  end  is  sufficient  to 
call  forth  the  decision  of  the  will.  When  the  clock 
strikes  eight  I  think  of  meeting  my  class,  and  with- 
out a  moment's  hesitation  I  utter  the  mental  yes. 
Sometimes  the  decision  is  prompted  by  an  instinct, 
an  impulse,  a  wish,  or  a  desire,  by  a  feeling  of  pleas- 
ure or  pain,  or  by  the  expectation  of  a  pleasure  or 
pain.  I  may  will  a  course  of  conduct  because  I 
love  or  desire  it,  or  because  it  promises  me  pleasure 
or  freedom  from  pain,  or  because  all  these  ele- 
ments unite  to  gain  my  consent.  Sometimes  I  feel 
impelled  to  act  in  a  certain  way  which  promises  me 
pleasure,  but  feel  a  moral  obligation  to  say  no.  It 
may  require  a  severe  effort  on  my  part  to  say  no,  to 
decide  against  an  act  which  is  so  charming  ;  I  seem- 
ingly have  to  force  myself  to  consent  to  a  course, 
which  I  finally  do  with  a  heavy  heart.1  Sometimes 

1  This  feeling  of  effort  is  frequently  spoken  of  as  the  will,  or 
eoul,  in  action;  here  we  are  supposed  to  feel  the  soul  working, 


CRITIQUE  OF  HEDONISM  217 

the  consent  is  not  obtained  until  a  great  many  rea- 
sons for  and  against  a  line  of  conduct  have  been  con- 
sidered, and  until  the  agent  understands  the  relation 
of  the  act  to  his  desires  or  impulses  or  hopes  or 
moral  aims.1  I  may  say  yes  to  a  line  of  conduct 
when  I  discover  by  reasoning  or  otherwise  that  it 
agrees  with  an  ideal  of  mine,  an  ideal  which  I  have 
already  chosen  by  an  act  of  will. 

5.  Conclusions.  —  Our  main  conclusions  here  are :  — 

(1)  Not    all    human    conscious    action   is   willed 
action. 

(2)  Man  is  prompted  to  action  by  his  instincts, 
impulses,    desires,    feelings,    thoughts,    perceptions, 
and    volitions,  ^i.e.,    consciousness    in    every   shape 
and  form  tends  to  be  followed  by  action. 

(3)  Man   is  determined  to  will  by  his  instincts, 
impulses,  desires,    feelings,    thoughts,    perceptions, 
i.e.,  any  state  of  consciousness  may  cause  the  ego  to 
render  a  decision  ;  and  hence, 

(4)  It  cannot  be  true  that  pleasure  alone  deter- 
mines action  or  volition.      ^"' 

6.  The  Hedonistic  Psychology  of  Action.  —  Let  us 
now  look  at  the  hedonistic   psychology  itself,  and 

"the  dull,  dead  heave  of  the  will"  (see  James,  Psychology, 
chapter  on  "  The  Will ").  But  this  feeling,  whatever  it  may  be,  is  not 
the  fiat,  or  veto,  itself,  though  it  may  be  necessary  to  bring  about 
the  fiat,  or  veto.  The  view  which  identifies  will  with  mental 
activity,  and  regards  all  psychic  energy  as  will,  will  look  upon 
the  effort-feeling  as  a  most  typical  case  of  willing,  or  soul-action. 

1  See  James,  Psychology,  chapter  on  "The  Will,"  the  reasonable 
type  of  willing. 


218  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

\ 

subject  it  to  criticism.  It  asserts  that  all  men  are 
prompted  to  action  either  by  pleasure  or  pain.  This 
may  mean  that  all  action,  both  voluntary  and  non- 
voluntary  (in  our  sense),  is  caused  by  pleasure  and 
pain;  or,  that  only  willed  action  is  determined  in  , 
that  way,  i.e.,  that  pleasure  and  pain  are  the  sole 
motives  of  willing. 

In  either  case  the  sole  motive  may  be  :  — 

(1)  Some  variety  of  pleasure  or  pain,  present  or 
apprehended ;  that  is,  pleasure  or  pain,  or  the  idea 
of  pleasure  or  pain ; 

(2)  Always  a  feeling  of  present  pleasure  or  pain; 

(3)  A  feeling  of  pain  alone  ;  or, 

(4)  Unconscious  pleasure  or  pain,  or  an  uncon- 
scious idea  of  pleasure  or  pain. 

7.  Present  or  Apprehended  Pleasure- Pain  as  the 
Motive. — Interpreting  the  theory  in  the  first  sense, 
it  means  that  actions  are  performed  or  not  performed 
because  they  give  us  or  promise  us  pleasure  or  pain. 
To  quote  Bain,1  a  typical  hedonistic  psychologist : 
"  A  few  repetitions  of  the  fortuitous  concurrence  of 
pleasure  and  a  certain  movement  will  lead  to  the 
forging  of  an  acquired  connection  under  the  Law  of 
Retentiveness  and  Contiguity,  so  that,  at  an  after 
time,  the  pleasure  or  its  idea  shall  evoke  the  proper 
movement."  2  "  The  remembrance,  notion,  or  antici- 
pation of  a  feeling  can  operate  in  essentially  the 
same  way  as  the  real  presence.  .  .  .  Without 
some  antecedent  of  pleasurable  or  painful  feeling, 
1  Emotions  and  Will,  3d  edition,  pp.  303-504.  2  76. ,  chap,  i,  §  8 


CRITIQUE  OF  HEDONISM  219 

—  actual  or  ideal,  primary  or  derivative,  —  the  will 
cannot  be  stimulated.  .  .  .  There  is  at  bottom  of 
every  genuine  voluntary  impulse  some  one  variety 
of  the  many  forms  wherein  pain  or  pleasure  takes 
possession  of  the  conscious  mind."1  "Every  object 
that  pleases,  engages,  charms,  or  fascinates  the  mind, 
whether  present,  prospective  or  imagined,  whether 
primitive  or  generated  by  association,  —  is  a  power 
to  urge  us  to  act,  an  end  of  pursuit ;  everything  that 
gives  pain,  suffering,  or  by  whatever  name  we  choose 
to  designate  the  bad  side  of  our  experience,  is  a 
motive  agent  in  like  manner."2  The  same  remarks 
are  made  to  apply  to  higher  acts  of  willing,  accord- 
ing to  the  same  authority.  "  In  this  whole  subject 
of  deliberation,  therefore,  there  is  no  exception  fur- 
nished ^against  the  general  theory  of  the  will,  or  the 
doctrine,  maintained  in  the  previous  pages,  that,  in 
volition,  the  executive  is  uniformly  put  in  motion  by 
some  variety  of  pleasure  or  pain,  present  or  appre- 
hended, cool  or  excited."3  "It  is  not  necessary, 
however,  it  is  not  a  condition  of  our  enjoyment,  that 
we  should  be  every  moment  occupied  with  the 
thought  of  the  subjective  pleasure  or  pain  connected 
with  our  pursuits  ;  we  are  set  in  motion  by  these, 
and  then  we  let  them  drop  out  of  view  for  a  time."4 

1  Emotions  and  Will,  chap,  iii,  §  8,  pp.  354  ff.      2  /&.,  p.  357. 

3  Ib. ,  chap,  vii,  p.  416.     See  also  pp.  420  ff. :  "A  voluntary  act  (as 
well  as  some  acts  not  voluntary)  is  accompanied  with  conscious- 
ness, or  feeling ;  of  which  there  may  be  several  sorts.    The  original 
motive  is  some  pleasure  or  pain,  experienced  or  conceived." 

4  /&.,  p.  347.     See  also  Jodl,  Lehrbuch  der  Psychologic,  pp.  425, 
719  ff.,  726. 


220  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

That  is,  men  think  and  act  in  order  to  procure 
pleasure  and  to  avoid  pain.  Thus,  for  example,  I  am 
studying  philosophy  because  of  the  pleasure  I  am 
deriving  from  it  now,  or  because  I  expect  pleasure 
hereafter.  And  I  assist  my  fellow-men  in  their 
struggle  for  existence  for  the  sake  of  the  happiness 
my  conduct  procures  for  me.  Pleasure,  or  the  idea 
of  it,  in  every  case  stimulates  me  to  act  as  I  do. 

(1)  The  psychology  of  action  does  not  seem  to  me 
to  bear  out  this  view.  Pleasure,  or  the  idea  of  pleas- 
ure, is,  of  course,  an  antecedent  to  volition  and 
action,  but  it  is  not  the  only  one  by  any  means.  I 
do  not.necessarily  eat  for  the  pleasure  it  gives  me, 
nor  do  I  get  angry  for  the  enjoyment  of  the  thing. 
I  do  not  necessarily  obey  the  moral  law  because  I 
get,  or  expect  to  get,  pleasure,  or  desire  to  avoid 
pain.  As  was  noticed  before,  psychology  presents 
us  with  countless  instances  in  which  acts  follow  im- 
mediately upon  the  appearance  in  consciousness  of 
certain  ideas.  As  Professor  James  says  :  "  So  wide- 
spread and  searching  is  this  influence  of  pleasures 
and  pains  upon  our  movements  that  a  premature 
philosophy  has  decided  that  these  are  our  only  spurs 
to  action,  and  that  wherever  they  seem  to  be  absent, 
it  is  only  because  they  are  so  far  on  among  the. 
'  remoter '  images  that  prompt  the  action  that  they 
are  overlooked.  This  is  a  great  mistake,  however. 
Important  as  is  the  influence  of  pleasures  and  pains 
.upon  our  movements,  they  are  far  from  being  our 
>only  stimuli.  With  the  manifestations  of  instinct 


CRITIQUE  OF  HEDONISM  221 

and  emotional  expression,  for  example,  they  have 
absolutely  nothing  to  do.  Who  smiles  for  the 
pleasure  of  the  smiling,  or  frowns  for  the  pleasure  of 
the  frown?  Who  blushes  to  escape  the  discomfort 
of  not  blushing?  Or  who  in  anger,  grief,  or  fear  is 
actuated  to  the  movements  which  he  makes  by  the 
pleasures  which  they  yield?  In  all  these  cases  the 
movements  are  discharged  fatally  by  the  vis  a  tergo 
which  the  stimulus  exerts  upon  a  nervous  system 
framed  to  respond  in  just  that  way.  The  objects  of 
our  rage,  love,  or  terror,  the  occasions  of  our  tears 
and  smiles,  whether  they  be  present  to  our  senses,  or 
whether  they  be  merely  represented  in  idea,  have 
this  peculiar  sort  of  impulsive  power.  The  impulsive 
quality  of  mental  states  is  an  attribute  behind  which 
we  cannot  go.  Some  states  of  mind  have  more  of  it 
than  others,  some  have  it  in  this  direction,  and  some 
in  that.  Feelings  of  pleasure  and  pain  have  it,  and 
perceptions  and  imaginations  of  fact  have  it,  but 
neither  have  it  exclusively  or  peculiarly.  It  is  of 
the  essence  of  all  consciousness  (or  of  the  neural  pro- 
cess which  underlies  it)  to  instigate  movement  of 
some  sort.  That  with  one  creature  and  object  it 
should  be  of  one  sort,  with  others  of  another  sort,  is 
a  problem  for  evolutionary  history  to  explain.  How- 
ever the  actual  impulsions  may  have  arisen,  they 
must  now  be  described  as  they  exist ;  and  those  per- 
sons obey  a  curiously  narrow  teleological  superstition 
who  think  themselves  bound  to  interpret  them  in 
every  instance  as  effects^  of  the  secret  solicitancy  of 


222  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

pleasure,  and  repugnancy  of  pain.  If  the  thought  of 
pleasure  can  impel  to  action,  surely  other  thoughts 
may.  Experience  only  can  decide  which  thoughts 
do."  J  Or  in  the  words  of  Darwin,  who,  though  not  a 
professed  psychologist,  has  observed  more  carefully 
than  many  of  them  :  "  All  the  authors  whose  works 
I  have  consulted,  with  a  few  exceptions,  write  as  if 
there  must  be  a  distinct  motive  for  every  action,  and 
that  this  must  be  associated  with  some  pleasure  or 
displeasure.  But  man  seems  often  to  act  impul- 
sively, that  is,  from  instinct  or  long  habit,  without 
any  consciousness  of  pleasure,  in  the  same  manner 
as  does  probably  a  bee  or  ant,  when  it  blindly  fol- 
lows its  instincts.  Under  circumstances  of  extreme 
peril,  as  during  a  fire,  when  a  man  endeavors  to  save 
a  fellow-creature  without  a  moment's  hesitation,  he 
can  hardly  feel  pleasure ;  and  still  less  has  he  time 
to  reflect  on  the  dissatisfaction  which  he  might  sub- 
sequently experience  if  he  did  not  make  the  attempt. 
Should  he  afterward  reflect  upon  his  own  conduct, 
he  would  feel  that  there  lies  within  him  an  impul- 
sive power  widely  different  from  a  search  after 
pleasure  or  happiness ;  and  this  seems  to  be  the 
deeply  planted  social  instinct."2 

1  Psychology,  chapter  on  "The  Will,"  Vol.  II,  pp.  549  ff.  Com- 
pare with  this  Guyau,  La  morale  contemporaine,  p.  425 :  "  We 
think,  we  feel,  and  the  act  follows.  There  is  no  need,  therefore,  of 
invoking  the  aid  of  an  exterior  pleasure,  no  need  of  a  middle  term 
or  bridge  to  pass  from  one  to  the  other  of  these  two  things : 
thought  —  action. ' ' 

a  The  Descent  of  Man,  p.  120.     See  also  Sidgwick,  Methods  of 


CRITIQUE  OF  HEDONISM  223 

The  urgency  with  which  an  idea  can  compel  the 
attention  and  dominate  consciousness  is  what  gives  it 
its  motor  force.  "  Let  it  once  so  dominate,"  says 
Professor  James,  "  let  no  other  ideas  succeed  in  dis- 
placing it,  and  whatever  motor  effects  belong  to  it 
by  nature  will  inevitably  occur  —  its  impulsion,  in 
short,  being  given  to  boot,  and  will  manifest  itself  as 
a  matter  of  course.  This  is  what  we  have  seen  in 
instinct,  in  emotion,  in  common  ideo-motor  action, 
in  hypnotic  suggestion,  in  morbid  impulsion,  and  in 
voluntas  invita,  —  the  impelling  idea  is  simply  the 
one  which  possesses  the  attention.  It  is  the  same 
where  pleasure  and  pain  are  the  motor  spurs  —  they 
drive  other  thoughts  from  consciousness  at  the  same 
time  that  they  instigate  their  own  characteristic 
'  volitional' effects.  .  .  .  In  short,  one  does  not  see  any 
case  in  which  the  steadfast  occupancy  of  conscious- 
ness does  not  appear  to  be  the  prime  condition  of 
impulsive  power.  It  is  still  more  obviously  the 
prime  condition  of  inhibitive  power.  What  checks 

Ethics,  "Pleasure  and  Desire,"  pp.  52  f. :  "Thus  a  man  of  weak 
self-control,  after  fasting  too  long,  may  easily  indulge  his  appetite 
for  food  to  an  extent  which  he  knows  to  be  unwholesome ;  and 
that  not  because  the  pleasure  of  eating  appears  to  him,  even  in 
the  moment  of  indulgence,  at  all  worthy  of  consideration  in  com- 
parison with  the  injury  to  his  health,  but  merely  because  he  feels 
an  impulse  to  eat  food,  too  powerful  to  be  resisted.  Thus,  again, 
men  have  sacrificed  all  the  enjoyments  of  life,  and  even  life  itself, 
to  obtain  posthumous  fame  ;  not  from  any  illusory  belief  that  they 
would  be  somehow  capable  of  deriving  pleasure  from  it,  but  from 
a  direct  desire  of  the  future  admiration  of  others,  and  a  preference 
of  it  to  their  own  pleasure."  Hume,  Inquiry  concerning  the  Prin- 
ciples of  Morals,  Appendix  I. 


224  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

our  impulses  is  the  mere  thinking  of  reason  to  the 
contrary  —  it  is  their  bare  presence  to  the  mind 
which  gives  the  veto,  and  makes  acts,  otherwise 
seductive,  impossible  to  perform.  If  we  could  only 
forget  our  scruples,  what  exultant  energy  we  should 
for  a  while  display." 

(2)  Another  point.  If  pleasure  or  pain,  or  the 
expectation  of  pleasure  or  pain,  is  what  prompts  all 
action,  how  shall  we  explain  the  first  performance  of 
so-called  instinctive  acts?  Men  as  well  as  animals 
perform  many  acts  instinctively,  without  knowing 
beforehand  whether  the  results  will  be  pleasurable 
or  painful.  The  newly  hatched  chick  sees  the  grain 
of  corn,  and  straightway  makes  the  movements  nec- 
essary to  pick  it  up,  without  any  thought  of  pleas- 
ure. Similarly  the  sight  of  the  infant  arouses  the 
love  of  the  young  mother,  and  impels  her  to  care 
for  it.  And  the  lover  of  truth  feels  a  craving  to 
unravel  the  mysteries  of  the  universe,  regardless  of 
whether  his  longings  will  bring  him  pleasure  or  pain. 
In  cases  like  these  there  is  present  in  consciousness 
a  more  or  less  distinct  idea  and  a  tendency  toward 
it,  a  feeling  of  pressure  or  impulsion  toward  it. 
The  explosion  of  the  impulse  will  be  followed  by 
pleasure,  though  the  agent  may  know  nothing  of 
this  result  until  it  has  happened.  The  impulse  or 
desire  for  the  act  here  exists  prior  to  the  act  itself- 
and  the  pleasure  accompanying  or  following  it. 

If  the  hedonistic  theory  is  correct,  then  all  these 
acts  must  be  prompted  by  pleasure  or  the  expecta- 


CRITIQUE  OF  HEDONISM  225 

tion  of  pleasure,  or  by  pain  or  the  fear  of  pain.  It 
will  not  do  to  say  that  such  acts  are  at  first  purely 
reflex,  in  the  sense  that  they  follow  mechanically  as 
the  consequence  of  the  stimulation  of  some  nerve 
centre  from  within  or  without,  and  that  the  pleas- 
ure experienced  after  the  first  mechanical  movement 
becomes  the  future  motor  cue.  For  if  they  have 
occurred  originally  without  the  intervention  of  a 
pleasurable  motive,  why  should  the  pleasure  be  such 
an  indispensable  condition  thereafter?  Nor  will  it 
do  to  say  that  pleasure,  though  not  now  the  motive, 
was  the  original  motive,  and  that  such  acts  are  in- 
heritances of  the  past.  Such  an  explanation  is  a 
mere  begging  of  the  question  ;  it  pushes  the  problem 
farther  back  into  the  field  of  the  unknown,  and  then 
assumes  the  very  thing  to  be  proved.  Besides,  if 
acts  can  be  performed  at  the  present  time  without 
being  prompted  by  pleasure,  why  could  they  not 
have  been  performed  in  a  similar  way  before? 

(3)  Again,  if  pleasure,  or  the  idea  of  .pleasure,  is 
the  sole  motive  to  action,  how  shall  we  explain  the 
fact  that  some  pleasures  are  preferred  to  others? 
Why  do  many  men  prefer  the  pleasures  of  the  intel- 
lect to  the  pleasures  of  sense?  Shall  we  say  with 
Bentham  that  the  so-called  higher  pleasures  are 
more  intense  than  the  others  ?  But  many  psycholo- 
gists hold  that  the  reverse  is  true.1  And  if  the 
intensity  of  the  pleasure  is  not  what  gives  it  its 
motive  force,  what  is  it?  The  peculiar  quality  of 

1  See  Ladd,  Psychology,  p.  195. 
Q 


226  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

the  pleasure?  (Mill.)  In  that  case  the  theory  aban- 
dons its  original  position  that  pleasure  is  the  sole 
motive  to  action,  and  substitutes  for  it  the  view 
that  a  certain  'kind  of  pleasure  causes  us  to  act,  a 
fact  which  must  be  explained. 

I  Moreover,  how  did  the  race  emerge  from  savagery, 
how  did  it  come  to  prefer  ideal  pleasures?  Who 
told  our  ancestors  of  the  pleasures  resulting  from 
jthe  pursuit  of  higher  aims  before  they  had  tasted 
(them?  Were  they  not  bound  to  think  first,  before 
'they  discovered  that  thinking  was  pleasurable? 

(4)  It  seems  that  there  can  be  conscious  action 
which  is  not  prompted  by  pleasure  or  the  anticipa- 
tion of  it.  Men  think  and  plan  and  act,  they  strug- 
gle for  fame  and  recognition  in  this  world  and  in  the 
next,  they  sacrifice  themselves  for  ideals,  much  in 
the  same  manner  in  which  children  play  and  birds 
sing  :  because  it  is  their  nature  to  do  what  they  do, 
because  they  desire  or  will  to  do  it,  not  because  it 
gives  them  pleasure.  Giordano  Bruno  did  not  die 
at  the  stake  for  the  pleasure  of  the  thing,  nor  did 
Socrates  drink  the  poisoned  hemlock  for  the  sake  of 
happiness  beyond  the  grave.  Aristotle  and  Coper- 
nicus, Newton  and  Darwin,  did  not  give  up  their 
lives  to  the  study  of  nature  in  order  to  realize 
pleasure  and  avoid  pain.  They  did  what  they  did 
j  because  they  could  not  help  themselves.  "  It  is  a 
calumny  to  say,"  so  Carlyle  declares,  "  that  men  are 
roused  to  heroic  actions  by  ease,  hope  of  pleasure, 
recompense  —  sugar-plums  of  any  kind  in  this  world 


CRITIQUE  OF  HEDONISM  227 

or  the  next.  In  the  meanest  mortal  there  lies  some- 
thing nobler.  The  poor  swearing  soldier  hired  to 
be  shot  has  his  'honor  of  a  soldier,'  different  from 
drill,  regulations,  and  the  shilling  a  day.  It  is  not 
to  taste  sweet  things,  but  to  do  noble  and  true 
things,  and  vindicate  himself  under  God's  heaven 
as  a  God-made  man,  that  the  poorest  son  of  Adam 
dimly  longs.  Show  him  the  way  of  doing  that,  the 
dullest  day-drudge  kindles  into  a  hero.  They  wrong 
i  man  greatly  who  say  he  is  to  be  seduced  by  ease. 
Difficulty,  abnegation,  martyrdom,  death,  are  the 
allurements  that  act  on  the  heart  of  man.  Kindle 
the  inner  genial  life  of  him,  you  have  a  flame  that 
burns  up  all  lower  considerations. "  l 

(5)  It  is  true  that  the  realization  of  our  desires 
and  purposes  is  accompanied  or  followed  by  a  tem- 
porary feeling  of  relief  or  satisfaction  or  pleasure. 
But  this  does  not  prove  that  the  feeling,  or  the 
expectation  of  it,  was  the  cause  of  the  result.  If  I 
should  make  up  my  mind  to  jump  out  of  the  win- 
dow, I  should  not  be  satisfied  until  I  had  accom- 
plished the  task.  The  realization  of  my  desire 
would  bring  me  relief,  but  the  latter  would  not 
necessarily  be  the  cause  of  the  act.  The  tension 
in  my  brain  or  the  energy  in  the  cells  would  be 
discharged  into  my  muscles,  and  a  feeling  of  pleas- 
ure would  ensue.  But  I  could  not  say  that  it  was 
the  expectation  of  this  result  that  made  me  jump. 

1  Hero-Worship,  p.  237  (ed.  1858).    Quoted  by  Lecky,  European 
••  Morals,  Vol.  I,  p.  57. 


228  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

My  pleasures  depend  upon  my  impulses  and  desires, 
my  desires  do  not  depend  upon  my  pleasures.  To 
assume  that  pleasure  is  the  cause  of  an  act  because 
it  follows^  the  act,  is  a  fallacy  of  the  post  hoc  ergo 
propter  hoc  kind.  As  Hoffding  says :  "  Because 
the  end  or  the  object  of  the  impulse  is  something 
that  excites,  or  seems  to  excite,  pleasure,  it  need 
not  necessarily  be  the  feeling  of  pleasure  itself. 
The  impulse  is  essentially  determined  by  an  idea, 
is  a  striving  after  the  content  of  this  idea.  In 
f  hunger,  e.g.,  the  impulse  has  reference  to  the  food, 
not  to  the  feeling  of  pleasure  in  its  consumption."1 
"  The  sympathetic  impulses,  e.g.,  the  impulse  to  miti- 
gate the  sorrows  or  to  promote  the  welfare  of  others, 
are  guided  by  the  idea  of  the  improved  condition 
of  others,  depicted  more  or  less  in  the  imagination, 
as  also  by  that  of  the  pleasure  they  feel  in  their 
improved  condition,  —  but  it  is  not  in  the  least 
necessary  for  the  idea  of  the  pleasure  afforded  to 
us  by  the  sight  of  their  improved  condition  to  make 
itself  felt."2 

8.  Present  Pleasure  -  Pain  as  the  Motive. — 
Sometimes  the  theory  is  interpreted  in  the  second 
sense  referred  to  above.3  That  is,  all  action 
is  prompted  by  pleasure  or  pain,  not  ^by  the  idea 
or  expectation  of  it.  It  is  only  because  the  idea  of 

1  Psychology,  English  translation,  p.  323.     See  Bain's  answer  to 
this  argument,  Emotions  and  the  Will,  "The  Will,"  chap,  viii, 
§7. 

2  See  also  Steinthal,  Ethik,  Part  III,  pp.  312-382 ;  II,  pp.  227, 348. 
»§6. 


CRITIQUE  OF  HEDONISM  229 

a  pleasure  is  accompanied  by  pleasure,  and  an  idea 
of  pain,  by  pain,  that  it  has  motive  force.  In  the 
words  of  Jodl  :  "  Only  the  newly  arising  feeling, 
caused  by  memory-images  (presentation-feeling), 
not  the  idea  of  the  feeling,  that  is,  the  memory  of 
a  feeling,  or  the  conception  of  a  feeling,  influences 
the  will."1 

In  answer  to  this  view  we  may  say  :  (1)  Strictly 
speaking,  we  never  have  a  state  of  consciousness 
which  is  purely  a  feeling.  The  feeling  may  be  the 
predominant  element,  but  it  is  not  the  only  one  in 
the  process.  In  addition  to  feeling  we  have,  accord- 
ing to  modern  psychology,2  intellection  and  cona- 
tion, or,  to  use  more  popular  terms,  thinking  and 
willing.  Consequently,  why  should  we  pick  out 
one  of  the  factors  which  go  to  make  up  a  unified, 
conscious  state,  and  regard  it  as  the  all-important 
motive  to  action?  And,  then,  why  pick  out  this 
particular  one?  The  hedonistic  psychologist  makes 
the  scheme  of  action  and  willing  far  too  simple.  He 
imagines  that  first  we  have  an  idea  of  some  object 
or  act,  that  this  idea  somehow  or  other  arouses  a 
feeling  of  pleasure  or  pain,  in  consequence  of  which 
a  movement  is  made  or  inhibited.  This  explanation 
is  as  unsatisfactory  as  it  is  simple. 

(2)    Moreover,  ignoring  this  objection,  to  say  that 

1  Lehrbuch  der  Psychologic,  p.  726. 

2  See  Ladd,  Psychology,  Descriptive  and  Explanatory,  chap,  iv ; 
Hoffding,  Psychology,  chap,  iii ;  Sully,  The  Human  Mind,  Vol.  I, 
thap.  iv ;  Jodl,  Psychologic,  chap,  iii,  2 ;  Williams,  A  Review  of 
Evolutional  Ethics,  pp.  360  f£. 


230  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

pleasure  is  the  only  motive  to  action,  assumes  (a) 
that  feelings  alone  can  instigate  action ;  (6)  that 
only  pleasurable  and  painful  feelings  can ;  and  (<?) 
that  all  feelings  must  be  either  pleasurable  or  pain- 
ful. Each  one  of  these  statements  is  open  to  serious 
objection. 

We  have  already  shown  in  what  precedes  that 
feelings  are  not  the  sole  motives  to  action  or  willing. 
And  unless  pleasure-pains  are  the  only  feelings  in 
consciousness,  we  can  show  that  other  feelings  have 
as  much  right  to  be  regarded  as  motive  forces  as 
these.  We  have  feelings  of  obligation,  approval 
and  disapproval,  feelings  of  hope  and  fear,  love  and 
hate,  anger,  envy,  trust,  etc.,  all  of  which  can  influ- 
ence action.  Are  these  feelings  merely  pleasurable 
or  painful  tones  of  different  ideas  ? l  There  is  pain 
in  disapproval,  fear,  hate,  anger,  and  envy,  no  doubt, 
and  pleasure  in  approval,  hope,  love,  and  trust.  But 
is  that  all  there  is  in  these  feelings  ?  Does  not  each 
feeling  possess  its  peculiar  color-tone,  so  to  speak? 
Is  not  the  feeling  of  fear  more  than  the  idea  of  a 
future  object  plus  a  feeling  of  pain,  and  the  feeling 
of  anger  more  than  the  idea  of  something  that 
opposes  me,  plus  pain? 

But,  the  opponent  urges,  would  you  perform  cer- 
tain acts  if  they  procured  you  no  pleasure?  Yes, 
I  answer,  I  should  and  I  do.  I  perform  many  acts 

1  Spinoza,   Hoffding,  Kiilpe,  Jodl,  Bain,   would    answer   this 
question  in  the  affirmative.     In  opposition  see  especially  Wundt , 
and  Ladd. 


CRITIQUE  OF  HEDONISM  231 

which  not  only  yield  me  no  pleasure,  but  even  give 
m&pain.  I  catch  a  student  cheating  ;  it  gives  me  no 
pleasure.  I  report  him  to  the  authorities ;  it  gives 
me  no  pleasure.  I  testify  against  him ;  it  gives  me 
no  pleasure.  I  see  him  disgraced  ;  it  gives  me  no 
pleasure.  So,  too,  I  submit  to  the  pain  of  a  surgical 
operation.  Ah,  yes,  the  hedonist  replies,  you  derive 
pleasure  from  the  thought  of  having  done  your  duty, 
or  from  the  hope  of  being  restored  to  health.  That 
may  be ;  but  I  also  get  pain.  Very  true,  but  the- 
pleasure  exceeds  the  pain,  comes  the  answer.  Is 
don't  know ;  it  is  not  an  easy  thing  to  compute 
pleasures  arid  pains,  and  it  is  much  harder  to  com- 
pare them  with  each  other,  and  to  say  that  the 
amount  of  pleasure  which  I  derive  from  one  act  is 
greater  than  the  amount  of  pain  yielded  by  another. 
Besides,  even  though  the  pleasure  did  exceed  the 
pain,  that  would  not  prove  that  the  feeling  of  pleas- 
ure was  the  motive.  As  we  have  said  before,  the 
fact  that  pleasure  follows  does  not  prove  that  it  pre- 
cedes. But,  it  is  said,  the  hope  of  it  preexists. 
Well,  we  have  already  found  that  the  idea  of  pleas- 
ure is  not  the  sole  motive. 

Another  argument  in  favor  of  this-  aspect  of 
the  theory  appears  in  this  form:  Pleasure  must  be 
the  motive,  because  if  an  act  gave  me  pain  I  should 
not  perform  it.  Our  answer  is :  (1)  I  do  perform 
many  acts  which  give  me  pain.  Yes,  but  you  do 
them  for  the  sake  of  some  future  pleasure,  I  am  told. 
That  is  begging  the  question  ;  that  is  the  very  point 


232  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

which  has  to  be  proved,  and  has  not  been  proved. 
(2)  Even  if  it  were  true  that  I  should  not  perform 
an  act  that  gave  me  pain,  this  would  not  of  itself 
prove  that  the  pleasure  is  the  thing  I  am  after.  It 
would  be  like  asserting  that  I  go  to  the  theatre  in 
order  to  get  warm,  because  I  would  not  go  if  the 
house  were  cold.1  We  cannot  think  .without  the 
presence  of  arterial  blood  in  the  brain,  but  that  will 
not  allow  us  to  conclude  that  arterial  blood  is  the 
cause  of  thought,  as  Empedocles  did.  I  cannot  live 
without  eating,  but  does  that  make  eating  the  motive  I 
of  my  living  ?  I  will  not  eat  of  a  certain  dish  unless 
it  is  seasoned  properly,  but  is  the  seasoning  the  thing 
I  am  after  ?  Do  I  eat  my  food  for  the  pepper  and 
salt  it  contains  ? 

9.  Pain  as  the  Motive.  —  According  to  another 
phase  of  hedonism,  neither  pleasure  nor  the  idea  of 
pleasure,  but  a  feeling  of  pain  or  discomfort,  impels 
us  to  action.2  We  have  certain  needs  or  cravings, 
says  Schopenhauer,  and  we  feel  pain  unless  they  are 
satisfied.  The  will  strives  to  free  itself  from  pain, 
and  therefore  acts.3 

Now,  it  is  doubtless  true  that  feelings  of  pain  and 
discomfort  often  prevail  in  consciousness,  and  may 
be  regarded  as  giving-  rise  to  action.  My  aching 
tooth  may  impel  me  to  seek  relief  at  the  dentist's. 

1  See  Simmel,  Einleitung  in  die  Moralwissenschaft,Vo\.  I,  p.  316. 

2  See  Rolph,  Biologische  Probleme ;  Sergi,  Physiological  Psy* 
chology  ;  Schopenhauer ;  and  others. 

8  See  chap.  x. 


CRITIQUE  OF  HEDONISM  238 

Or  I  may  be  bored  to  death  in  a  certain  town,  and 
seek  for  a  change  of  scene  in  consequence.  But  can 
we  say  that  the  feeling  of  pain  is  the  sole  motive  to 
action  ?  Do  you  eat  and  drink  and  plan  and  study 
and  love  and  hate,  simply  in  order  to  rid  yourself  of  ' 
pain  ?  I  do  not  think  so.  Pain  is  a  motive  among 
others  —  and  a  very  effective  motive  at  times  —  but 
it  is  not  the  only  one.  We  have  impulses  and  de- 
sires, and  when  they  are  not  satisfied  they  may  grow 
more  intense  and  be  felt  as  pain  or  discomfort.  But 
they  may  be  realized  before  this  feeling  arises.  This 
feeling  of  discomfort  is  in  many  cases  nothing  but 
the  intensification  of  the  impulse  itself,  the  exalta- 
tion of  the  tendency  or  "  urgency  from  within  out- 
ward. "  *  Perhaps  it  stands  for  the  increased  tension 
of  the  motor  cells  —  the  energy  increases  until  it 
reaches  the  explosion  point ; 2  perhaps  it  represents 
the  muscular,  tendinous,  an'd  articular  excitations 
caused  in  different  parts  of  the  body  by  the  over- 
flow from  the  brain  ; 3  perhaps  it  is  due  to  both.4  At 
any  rate,  to  say  that  this  feeling  is  the  cause  of 
the  explosion  or  the  movement,  is  like  saying  that 
the  intensification  of  the  impulse  is  the  cause  of  the 
impulse,  or  that  I  desire  an  act  because  I  desire  it 
strongly. 

We  must  therefore  say  to  the  advocates  of  this 
view  :    (1)  If  you  claim  that  every  act  has  for  its 

1  Ktilpe,  Psychology,  English  translation,  p.  266. 

2  Bain,  Wundt,  Preyer.  8  James  and  Miinsterberg. 
*  Ladd,  Psychology,  pp.  221  ff. 


234  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

motive  a  feeling  of  pain,  as  in  the  examples  first 
mentioned,  you  are  in  error ;  not  all  acts  are  thus 
produced.  (2)  If  by  the  feeling  of  pain  you  mean 
the  feeling  of  uneasiness  which  accompanies  an 
impulse,  you  are  wrong  again,  for  (a)  this  feeling  is 
not  an  essential  antecedent  to  every  act,  and  (6)  it 
cannot  be  said  to  precede  the  impulse  and  set  it  in 
motion,  it  is  the  impulse  itself  intensified.1 

10.  Unconscious  Pleasure-Pain  as  the  Motive.  — 
Psychology  makes  against  the  view  that  pleasure 
and  pain,  in  any  of  the  forms  discussed  above, 
are  the  sole  motives  to  action.  We  are  deter- 
mined in  our  conduct  not  merely  by  pleasure  and 
pain,  or  the  hope  or  fear  of  pleasure  and  pain. 
Convinced  of  this  fact,  and  yet  unwilling  to  abandon 
his  general  proposition,  the  hedonist  might  say: 
True,  the  will  is  roused  to  action  not  merely  by  con- 
scious pleasure  or  pain,  or  by  a  conscious  idea  of 
pleasure  and  pain,  but  by  unconscious  pleasure  and 
pain,  or  by  an  unconscious  presentation  of  pleasure 
and  pain.  That  is  to  say,  I  am  guided  in  many  of 
my  doings  by  unconscious  pleasure  and  pain.  My 
will  is  directed  toward  pleasure  without  knowing  it. 
I  strive  after  wealth,  honor,  fame,  for  the  sake  of 
the  pleasure  they  will  bring,  without,  however, 
always  being  aware  of  it.  Wealth,  honor,  and 
fame,  like  the  food  which  we  eat,  are  sought  after 
for  the  pleasure  which  they  procure,  though  we  may 
not  be  conscious  of  the  fact. 

1  Ktilpe,  Psychology,  p.  267. 


CRITIQUE  OF  HEDONISM  235 

This,  it  seems  to  me,  is  rather  a  weak  basis  upon 
which  to  rest  a  theory.  What  happens  in  the  realm 
of  the  unconscious  I  have  no  means  of  telling ; 
indeed,  I  do  not  even  know  whether  there  is  such  a 
thing  as  an  unconscious  soul-life.  When  the  hedo- 
nist has  recourse  to  the  unconscious  he  has  recourse 
to  the  metaphysical;  he  shifts  the  problem  from  psy- 
chology to  philosophy.  As  Sidgwick  says  :  "  The 
proposition  would  be  difficult  to  disprove.  .  .  . 
When  once  we  go  beyond  the  testimony  of  conscious- 
ness, there  seems  to  be  no  clear  method  of  deter- 
mining which  among  the  consequences  of  any  action 
is  the  end  at  which  it  is  aimed.  For  the  same 
reason,  however,  the  proposition  is  at  any  rate 
equally  difficult  to  prove." 1 

But  suppose  we  permit  the  concept  of  the  uncon- 
scious to  enter  into  our  discussion.  The  hedonist 
claims  that  man  blindly  strives  after  pleasure,  that 
he  is  unconsciously  determined  by  pleasure  or  pain, 
or  the  idea  of  pleasure  and  pain.  This  assumption 
must  be  proved  in  some  way.  How  can  the  hedo- 
nist prove  it  ?  How  can  he  show  us  what  takes  place 
behind  the  curtain  of  the  unconscious  ?  By  refer- 
ring to  the  effects  or  results  of  the  blind  striving  ? 
That  is,  shall  we  say,  Pleasure  is  the  invariable 
effect  of  unconscious  striving,  hence  pleasure  is  the 
unconscious  motive  ?  But  even  if  the  premise  were 
true,  would  that  make  the  conclusion  true  ?  Besides, 
is  the  premise  true  ?  Can  we  prove  that  pleasure 
1  Methods  of  Ethics,  p.  53. 


236  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

is  the  invariable  effect  or  consequence  of  all  blind 
striving  ? 

I  believe  not.  In  the  first  place  many  results 
follow  our  impulses  :  movements,  sensations,  feelings 
of  pleasure  and  pain,  feelings  of  satisfaction  due  to 
the  realization  of  the  impulse,  ideas,  other  impulses, 
etc.  The  realization  of  every  impulse  is  accom- 
panied and  followed  by  elements  of  thinking,  feeling, 
and  willing.  Now  why  should  I  pick  out  one  of 
these  and  say  that  it  is  the  unconscious  choice  of  the 
mind  ?  Besides,  waiving  this  point,  does  the  pleas- 
ure always  come  ?  Say  that  I  am  striving  after 
wealth.  My  ostensible  aim  is  the  money ;  but, 
says  hedonism,  the  real  aim  is  pleasure.  Pleasure, 
which  is  the  secret  power  behind  the  throne,  invari- 
ably follows  the  realization  of  desire.  Is  this  true  ? 
I  work  and  struggle  and  accumulate  money,  but 
am  I  ever  satisfied? 

Hedonism  in  this  form  consists  of  nothing  but  a 
lot  of  unproved  suppositions  :  — 

(1)  That  there  are  unconscious  states  of  mind  ; 

(2)  That  there  can  be  unconscious  pleasures  and 
pains,  or  unconscious  ideas  of  pleasure-pains  ; 

(3)  That  pleasure-pains  are  the  only  unconscious 
motives  that  can  lead  to  action  ; 

(4)  That  pleasure  and    pain   are   the    universal 
accompaniments  of  action. 

11.  The  Psychological  Fallacies  of  Hedonism.  — 
I  believe  that  we  may  now  say  without  fear  of 
contradiction  that  psychology  makes  against  the 


CRITIQUE  OF  HEDONISM  237 

view  that  pleasure  is  the  sole  motive  to  action.  We 
are  not  prompted  to  action  solely  by  feelings  of 
pleasure  and  pain,  or  ideas  of  pleasure  and  pain.  It 
is  a  psychological  fallacy  to  claim  that  we  are. 
Generally  speaking,  this  fallacy  is  based  upon  the 
following  misconceptions  :  — 

(1)  Hedonistic  psychologists  hold  that  all  feelings 
must   be   either  pleasurable    or    painful,   and    that 
pleasure-pain  constitutes  the  only  class   of  feeling. 
This  hypothesis,  however,  has  not  been   proved  to 
the   satisfaction   of   a   large    number    of    psycholo- 
gists. 

(2)  Hedonistic  psychologists  confuse  impulses  and 
desires  with  pleasurable  and  painful  feelings.     There 
is  frequently  present  in  consciousness,  as  we   have 
pointed  out,  a  more  or  less   distinct  idea  of  move- 
ment, together  with  a  tendency  toward  it,  a  feeling 
of   impulsion   toward  it,    "a  pressure   from  within, 
outward."      This   impulsion   is   felt   as   pleasurable 
until  it  reaches  a  certain  point,  when  it  may  become 
painful.     According  as  we  unduly  emphasize  either 
the  pleasurable  or  painful  aspects  of  such  states  of 
consciousness  as  these,  we   shall  assert   either   that 
pleasure  or  that  pain  is  the  invariable  antecedent  of 
action.     But  we  must  guard  against  wholly  identify- 

Iing  the  feeling  of  impulsion  with  pleasure  or  pain  ; 
the  impulse  contains  more  than  these  elements,  as  we 
have  pointed  out  above.  Whether  the  physiological 
cause  of  the  feeling-impulse  is  a  nervous  current 
running  from  the  brain,  or  whether  it  is  the  excita- 


238  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

tion  produced  in  the  brain  by  the  resulting  move- 
ments in  the  muscles,  joints,  and  skin,  or  whether 
it  is  both,  does  not  concern  us  here.  One  thing 
seems  certain :  the  impulse  on  its  mental  side  i» 
more  than  pleasure  and  pain. 

(3)  Hedonistic   psychologists    also    identify  the 
affirmation  or  fiat  of  the  will  with  pleasure,  and  the 
negation  or  veto  with  pain.     They  find  that  when 
the  mind  decides  a  case,  there  is  a  "  tone  of  feeling  " 
present,   which,   since   pleasure -pains   are   the   only 
feelings  possible,  must  be  a  form  of  pleasure  or  pain. 
But  though  pleasures  and  pains  are  frequently  fused 
with  the  state  of  consciousness  which  characterizes 
an  act  of  will  (in  our  sense),  they  are  not  the  only 
elements  contained  in  it,  nor  are  they  the  all-impor- 
tant ones. 

(4)  Hedonistic  psychologists  also  notice  that  the 
cognitive    elements    preceding    an    act   are    always 
changing,   while    the    feeling-element    remains    the 
same.     Hence  they  come  to  regard  the  feelings  as 
the  invariable  antecedents  of  acts,  and  set  them  up 
as  the  motives  of  action.     They  make  two  mistakes 
here  :     They  regard  all  feelings  as  tones  or  shades 
of  pleasure-pain ;  and  they  conclude  that  because  a 
certain  aspect  of  consciousness   precedes  action,  it 
must  be  the  motive  or  cause  of  action. 

(5)  Hedonistic  psychologists  also  believe  that  all 
acts  are  accompanied  or  followed  by  pleasure-pains, 
and  therefore  conclude  that  these  must  be  the  motives. 
But,  as  we  have  shown,  it  does  not  necessarily  follow 


CRITIQUE  OF  HEDONISM  239 

that  because  pleasure-pains  are  the  effects  or  results 
of  acts  they  are  therefore  also  the  causes.    /— 

12.  The  Pleasure   of   the   Race  as  the  Motive. — 
But  perhaps   our   opponents  will   say,    We   do  not 
mean  that  the  pleasure  of  self  is  the  end  or  motive, 
but  the  pleasure  of  the  race,  the  greatest  happiness 
of  the  greatest  number.1 

We  may  urge  the  same  objections  against  this 
view  as  against  the  other.  It  cannot  be  proved  that 
all  human  beings  strive  after  the  pleasure  of  the  race, 
that  the  idea  of  racial  pleasure  is  the  motive  of 
human  action.  And  to  say  that  they  unconsciously 
strive  after  the  happiness  of  the  race  is  as  objec- 
tionable, in  a  certain  sense,  as  to  say  that  they 
unconsciously  strive  after  their  own  pleasure. 

13.  Pleasure  as  the  End  realized  by  All  Action.  — 
Our  conclusion,  then,  is  this :  If  by  the  assertion, 
Pleasure,  or   happiness,   is   the   end  of  life  or  the 
highest  good,  we  mean  that  feelings  of  pleasure-pain, 
in  some  form  or  other,  are  the  motives   of  human 
action,  the  theory  cannot  stand.    Let  us  now  inter- 
pret hedonism  in  a  different  sense.2     Let  us  take  it 
to  mean  that  pleasure  is  the  end  or  purpose  of  all 
action   in  the   sense  that  all   living   beings   realize 
pleasure,  and  that  the  realization  of  pleasure  is  the 
object  of  their  existence. 

But  the  first  question  which  forces  itself  upon  us 
here  is  this,  Is  pleasure  really  the  result  of  all 
action  ?  It  will  have  to  be  proved  not  only  that 

1  Mill,  Utilitarianism,  pp.  22-23.       2  See  chap,  viii,  §  1  (2). 


240  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

pleasure  is  a  result  of  action,  but  the  result,  i.e., 
that  all  animals  get  more  pleasure  out  of  life  than 
pain.  We  have  already  seen  that  Aristotle  regards 
pleasure  as  the  consequence  or  concomitant  of  nor- 
mal or  natural  activity,  while  pain  is  linked  with 
abnormal  or  injurious  action.  Spencer  declares  that 
"  pains  are  the  correlatives  of  actions  injurious  to  the 
organism,  while  pleasures  are  the  correlatives  of 
acts  conducive  to  its  welfare."  By  conducive  and 
injurious  he  means  "tending  to  continuance  or 
increase  of  life,"  and  the  reverse.1  Bain  teaches 
that  "states  of  pleasure  are  connected  with  an 
increase,  and  states  of  pain  with  an  abatement,  of 
some  or  all,  of  the  vital  functions."  2  Although  there 
are  differences  in  expression,  all  these  statements 
evidently  mean  the  same,  namely,  that  "  pleasure  is 
significant  of  activities  which  are  beneficial,  and 
pain  is  significant  of  what  is  harmful,  either  to  the 
total  organism  of  the  individual  or  of  the  species,  or 
to  the  particular  organ  primarily  involved."  3 

Although  this  theory  is  not  free  from  objections,4 
let  us  accept  it  for  the  sake  of  argument.  Let  us 
assume  that  pleasure-accompanies  beneficial  activity, 
and  that  pain  is  the  concomitant  of  all  action  that  is 
harmful  and  dangerous.  Functions,  then,  which  are 

1  Psychology,  §  124  ;  Data  of  Ethics,  §  33. 

2  The  Senses  and  the  Intellect,  4th  edition,  chap,  iv,  §  18,  p.  303. 
8Ladd,  Psychology,  p.  191.      See  also  Sidgwick,  Methods  of 

Ethics,  pp.  177  ff. ;  Kiilpe,  Psychology,  English  translation,  pp.  267 
ff . ;  Marshall,  Pleasure,  Pain,  and  ^Esthetics,  especially  pp.  169  ff. 
4  See  Ladd,  Kiilpe,  Sidgwick,  Marshall. 


CRITIQUE  OF  HEDONISM  241 

useful  are  followed  by  pleasure,  while  those  which 
are  injurious  have  pain  as  their  consequence.  But 
would  this  prove  that  pleasure  is  the  end  of  all 
animal  existence,  either  in  the  sense  in  which  we 
speak  of  vision  being  the  end  or  purpose  of  the  eye, 
or  in  the  sense  that  God  or  some  intelligent  principle 
in  nature  has  set  up  as  the  goal  the  pleasure  of  living 
beings  ? 

When  we  speak  of  ends  we  may  merely  mean  that 
a  certain  result  is  obtained,  that  life,  for  example,  is 
tending  in  a  certain  direction.  Thus,  we  say  that 
an  organ  realizes  a  purpose.  The  eye  is  a  purposive 
or  teleological  mechanism ;  it  has  a  function  to 
perform  which  is  useful  to  the  animal,  it  serves  a 
purpose,  realizes  an  end. 

Now,  is  pleasure  the  end  of  life  in  this  sense  ? 
Pleasure  or  happiness  is  a  result  of  human  existence, 
one  of  the  results,  a  result  among  others.  But  how 
can  we  say  that  it  is  the  highest  end,  that  all  other 
factors  and  functions  are  means  to  this  ?  We  can 
say  that  perception,  imagination,  reasoning,  willing, 
etc.,  are  means  to  pleasure,  but  can  we  not  say  with 
equal  right  that  pleasure  is  a  means  to  these  ?  How 
can  we  prove  that  pleasure  is  the  final  goal  of  life  ? 
Why  pick  out  one  element  of  psychic  life  and  say 
that  the  realization  of  this  element  is  the  goal  toward 
which  everything  is  making,  the  end-all  and  be-all 
of  animal  existence  ?  Would  it  not  be  like  claiming 
that  seeing  is  the  highest  goal  because  normal  beings 
possess  an  organ  of  sight  ?  Would  it  not  be  more 


242  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

reasonable  to  say  that  the  different  organs  of  the 
body  are  means  to  a  higher  end  —  the  life  of  the 
entire  body,  of  which  the  organs  are  parts ;  and  that 
therefore  every  organ  is  a  means  to  bodily  life,  and 
in  so  far  as  life  consists  of  its  organs,  a  partial  end- 
in-itself  ?  Arid  would  it  not  also  be  more  reasonable 
to  say  that  the  realization  of  all  mental  states  is  the 
end,  rather  than  that  one  element,  which  never 
exists  alone  in  consciousness,  is  the  end  ?  It  would 
be  absurd  to  say  that  the  whole  body  and  its  organs, 
the  whole  mind  and  all  its  functions,  are  the  subor- 
dinate means  to  pleasure.  It  would  be  like  saying 
that  all  the  organs  of  the  body  are  merely  means 
of  seeing,  that  vision  is  the  end  of  life.  Would  it 
not  be  more  plausible  to  reverse  the  statement  and 
say,  Vision  is  a  means  of  life,  and  pleasure  and  pain 
are  both  means  of  preservation  ? 

14.  Pleasure-Pain  as  a  Means  of  Preservation. 
—  We  can  say  that  pain  serves  as  a  warning, 
pleasure  as  a  bait.  When  the  animal  feels  pain  it 
makes  movements  of  defence  or  flight.  Pleasure  and 
pain  may  be  conceived  as  primitive  forms  of  the 
knowledge  of  good  and  evil,  as  Paulsen  expresses  it. 
When  the  dangerous  object  is  near  at  hand,  the 
danger  to  life  is  greatest,  and  pain,  therefore,  most 
easily  aroused.  We  find  greater  sensibility  to  pain 
in  direct  touch  than  in  indirect  touching  like  seeing 
and  hearing. l 

1  See  Nichols,  article  on  "Pleasure  and  Pain,"  Philosophical 
Review,  Vol.  I,  pp.  414  ff. 


CRITIQUE  OF  HEDONISM  243 

It  seems,  also,  that  as  we  pass  from  lower  to  higher 
forms  of  organic  life  (from  lower  animals  to  man, 
and  from  the  lower  organs  to  the  higher),  pleasure 
and  pain  gradually  fall  into  the  background.  In  the 
lowest  forms  the  animal  must  come  into  direct  con- 
tact with  objects  before  it  can  feel  and  know  how  to 
act  with  regard  to  them.  Tactual  sensations  plus 
feelings  of  pleasure  and  pain  would  assist  the  animal 
in  preserving  itself.  In  the  course  of  time,  however, 
organs  are  developed  which  enable  the  animal  to  be- 
come aware  of  helpful  and  dangerous  things  without 
coming  into  such  close  contact  with  them.  By 
means  of  the  organs  of  taste,  smell,  hearing,  and 
sight,  the  animal  practically  touches  objects  at  a 
greater  and  greater  distance,  and  the  farther  away 
the  object  of  sense  is,  the  less  pain  and  pleasure  does 
it  arouse. 

I  see  no  better  way  of  interpreting  such  facts  as 
these  than  by  conceiving  the  feelings  of  pleasure  and 
pain  as  means  to  an  end  —  preservation. 

We  may  reach  a  similar  result  by  considering  the 
function  which  memory  performs.  Even  though  it 
were  true  that  every  sensation  had  to  be  felt  origi- 
nally as  pleasurable  or  painful  in  order  to  inform  the 
animal  of  the  nature  of  the  object  before  it,  and  to 
release  the  appropriate  movement  with  reference  to 
it,  we  can  understand  how  an  animal  possessing  the 
power  to  retain  its  experiences  could  learn  to  act 
without  being  prompted  by  feelings  of  pleasure  and 
pain.  The  touch  or  sight  of  the  object  might  call 


244  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

up  the  thought  of  the  pleasure  or  pain  experienced 
before,  and  the  animal  might  act  appropriately  with- 
out feeling  peripherally  excited  pleasure  or  pain. 
The  animal  could  tell  what  was  good  or  bad  for  it 
without  directly  experiencing  pleasure  or  pain  at  all, 
because  each  sensation  would  be  associated  with 
ideas  or  copies  of  past  sensations,  and  it  could  pre- 
serve itself  because  these  ideas  would  call  up  certain 
movements  which  had  been  made  before.  Indeed, 
the  sensation  itself  might  come  to  be  associated  with 
the  appropriate  movements,  without  the  interven- 
tion of  any  additional  element.  The  sight  of  the 
hawk  may  be  associated  in  the  consciousness  of 
the  hen  with  certain  tendencies  to  action,  and  here  the 
association  may  have  been  formed  during  the  history 
of  the  species  ;  it  may  be  the  result  of  race  experi- 
ence. The  sight  of  a  cliff  over  which  the  mule  has 
once  fallen  may  become  associated  in  the  mind  of 
the  animal  with  the  thought  of  its  past  experience, 
and  cause  it  to  hesitate.  Here  the  association  is  the 
result  of  individual  experience.  In  both  cases,  how- 
ever, a  feeling  of  aversion  is  perhaps  felt  in  the  pres- 
ence of  the  dangerous  object,  and  this  may  be  followed 
by  a  movement  or  the  inhibition  of  a  movement. 

Now  in  the  case  of  man  abstract  reasoning  is  added 
to  the  other  processes.  We  pick  out  certain  char- 
acteristics from  the  concrete  object  which  we  are 
considering,  and  connect  them  with  certain  general 
consequences. 1  We  reason  from  the  fact  that  a  man 

1  See  James,  Psychology:  "Reasoning,"  Vol.  II,  chap.  xxii. 


CRITIQUE  OF  HEDONISM  245 

has  certain  symptoms  that  he  has  a  certain  disease, 
and  prescribe  a  particular  mode  of  treatment.  The 
general  discovers  a  weakness  in  the  enemy's  line  of 
battle,  and  makes  the  movements  which  will  lead  to 
the  desired  overthrow  of  the  opposing  force. 

It  seems,  then,  that  in  the  lowest  stages  of  life  the 
feelings  of  pleasure  and  pain  serve  as  signs  that  the 
act  is  preservative.  Afterward  this  element  falls 
into  the  background,  and  other  signs  are  employed. 
Percepts  and  ideas  are  associated  either  with  the  idea 
of  pleasure  or  pain,  which,  in  turn,  is  associated  with 
the  idea  of  some  appropriate  movement;  or  the  per- 
cept or  idea  is  associated  directly  with  the  act,  as  is 
the  case  with  instincts,  habitual  acts,  ideo-motor 
action,  etc. 

Hence  we  may  say  again  what  we  found  to  be 
true  before :  Feelings  of  pleasure  and  pain  often 
serve  as  signs  of  what  furthers  and  hinders  life; 
sometimes  the  ideas  of  such  feelings,  that  is,  the 
expectation  of  pleasure  and  pain,  sometimes  other 
ideas,  indicate  it.  Hence  it  is  fair  to  say  that 
pleasures  and  pains  are  means  of  guiding  the 
will;  they  assist  the  will  in  preserving  and  pro- 
moting individual  and  generic  life.  Whenever 
these  results  can  be  attained  without  the  help  of 
pleasure  and  pain,  other  means  are  employed. 
Pleasure  is  not  the  end  aimed  at  by  the  will,  but 
a  means.  It  is  far  more  reasonable  to  say  that  the 
will  blindly  strives  for  the  preservation  and  the 
development  of  life,  and  that  pleasure  and  pain 


246  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

are  among  its  guides,  than  to  say  that  pleasure  is 
the  end  and  life  the  means.  The  part  is  a  means 
to  the  whole  of  which  it  is  the  part;  the  whole  is 
not  a  means  to  an  individual  part. 

15.  The  Physiological  Basis  of  Pleasure- Pain.  — 
Now  let  us  look  at  the  matter  physiologically. 
Let  us  consider  what  are  the  physiological  condi- 
tions of  pleasure  and  pain.  When  I  exercise  an 
organ  moderately,  a  pleasant  feeling  arises ;  when  I 
overexercise  it,  an  unpleasant  feeling  is  the  result. 
A  too  intense  light  causes  pain ;  a  very  loud  sound 
does  the  same.  It  is  often  said  that  a  very  weak 
sensation  is  accompanied  by  an  unpleasant  feeling. 
This  is  true,  however,  only  when  we  attempt  to  pay 
attention  to  it,  in  which  case  the  pain  is  due  to  the- 
effort  we  make.  We  may  suppose  that  when  an 
organ  is  exercised  or  stimulated,  the  cortical  centre 
to  which  or  from  which  the  current  runs  has  its 
nervous  substance,  its  cells,  destroyed.  The  energy 
in  the  cells  is  used  up.  But  the  energy  is  restored 
as  quickly  as  possible  by  the  blood,  which  carries 
nourishment.  If  the  expended  central  energy  is 
restored  quickly  enough  to  make  up  for  the  waste, 
a  pleasant  feeling  arises.  But  when  the  cellular 
substance  is  not  restored  rapidly  enough,  we  get 
unpleasant  feelings.  When  the  nervous  system 
is  acted  upon,  blood  is  carried  to  the  parts  in  action 
in  order  to  restore  the  expended  force.  The  arte- 
ries are  dilated.  This  explains  the  changes  in  pulse, 
respiration,  etc.,  which  accompany  or  follow  pleas- 


CRITIQUE  OF  HEDONISM  247 

urable  feelings.  When,  however,  too  severe  a  drain 
is  made  upon  the  parts  in  action,  the  blood  does  not 
carry  enough  nourishment,  and  the  lost  energy  is 
not  restored.  Pain  ensues.  The  breaking  down 
of  the  cells  reacts  upon  the  movement  of  the  arte- 
ries ;  the  greater  the  demand  made  upon  them,  the 
less  they  can  do  ;  they  become  constricted.  Hence, 
intense  bodily  pain  may  produce  a  swoon,  "  and  the 
tortures  of  the  rack  have  sometimes  put  the  victim 
to  sleep."1 

Now  to  say  that  pleasure  is  the  end,  would  mean, 
when  translated  into  physiological  language,  that 
the  entire  body,  with  all  its  complicated  organs,  was 
nothing  but  a  means  for  keeping  the  nervous  energy 
in  such  a  state  that  destruction  should  not  exceed 
construction.8  This  is  manifestly  absurd.  The 
sanest  view  to  take  is  that  the  physiological  con- 
dition corresponding  to  pleasure  is  a  sign  of  the 
proper  functioning  of  the  system,  that  the  health 
and  integrity  of  the  entire  system  is  the  end  which 
is  realized  by  the  proper  functioning  of  the  nervous 
and  every  other  system. 

16.  Metaphysical  Hedonism.  —  Much  harder  would 
it  be  to  prove  that  pleasure  is  the  highest  end 

1  Ktilpe,  Psychology,  p.  273.      See  Sutherland,  The  Origin  and 
Growth  of  the  Moral  Instinct,  Vol.  II,  chap.  xxii. 

2  Or,  if  we  assume  the  existence  of  special  pain  and  pleasure 
nerves,  the  hedonistic  physiology  would  mean  that  all  the  other 
nerves  and  all  the  other  parts  of  the  body  were  means  to  the  exci- 
tation of  the  pleasure  nerves,  and  that  the  excitation  of  these  nerves 
was  the  end  and  aim  of  life. 


248  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

aimed  at  by  nature  or  by  God.  We  should  have 
the  same  problem  as  before,  complicated  with  all 
the  difficulties  belonging  to  the  teleological  argu- 
ment in  metaphysics.1  We  should  have  to  prove 
(1)  that  an  end  is  really  realized;  (2)  that  pleas- 
ure is  that  end,  which  we  have  not  been  able  to  do 
so  far  ;  (3)  that  it  is  the  end  desired  by  God  or 
by  some  intelligent  principle  in  nature  ;  and  (4) 
that  everything  else  is  an  appropriate  means  of 
realizing  it.  It  would  have  to  be  shown  that  God 
made  the  world  and  everything  in  it  in  order  to 
procure  pleasure  or  happiness  for  his  creatures. 
Can  that  be  done  ?  Countless  numbers  of  living 
beings  perish  in  the  struggle  for  existence.  Many 
are  called  but  few  are  chosen.  Only  those  survive 
who  can  meet  the  requirements  of  their  surround- 
ings, whose  natures  are  adapted  to  the  conditions 
of  the  world. 

To  assume  that  the  end  aimed  at  by  God  is  pleas- 
ure, is  to  assume  that  everything  in  this  world,  the 
complicated  bodies  of  the  animals  and  everything 
in  existence,  was  made  in  order  that  living  beings 
might  get  pleasure.  One  feels  like  asking  in  this 
connection,  why  so  much  effort  was  wasted  to  pro- 
duce this  result  —  tant  de  bruit  pour  une  omelette  — 
when  it  might  have  been  attained  with  less  trouble. 
Perhaps  the  jellyfish  has  less  to  grumble  at  than 
man. 

1  For  an  excellent  critique  of  teleology,  see  Paulsen's  Introduc- 
tion to  Philosophy,  English  translation,  pp.  158  ff. 


CRITIQUE  OF  HEDONISM  249 

17.  Pleasure  as  the  Moral  End.  —  But,  it  might 
be  said,  although  pleasure  or  happiness  is  not  the 
end  at  which  men  aim,  consciously  or  unconsciously, 
they  ought  to  aim  at^it.  Why,  however,  ought  they 
to  aim  at  it?  we  ask.  To  say  that  one  ought  to  do  a 
thing  can  mean :  (1)  that,  if  one  desires  to  realize 
a  certain  end,  one  ought  to  use  certain  means  ;  or  (2) 
that  one  is  absolutely  bound  to  do  a  certain  thing. 
Now  if  we  say  that  man  ought  to  make  pleasure 
the  goal>  taking  the  ought  relatively  as  in  the  first 
case,  then  we  are  practically  making  pleasure  a 
means  to  some  other  end.  If  the  ought  is  taken  in 
the  second  sense,  and  we  say  that  man  is  bound 
unconditionally  to  seek  his  happiness,  that  he  is 
obliged  to  seek  it,  —  morally  obliged,  perhaps,  —  we 
are  simply  making  a  dogmatic  assertion  which  can- 
not be  proved,  and  which  will  not  be  accepted  by 
every  one  without  qualification.  It  cannot  be  proved 
that  one  ought  to  strive  after  some  highest  good ; 
this  is  a  matter  of  feeling.  Now,  do  all  human 
beings  feel  that  they  ought  to  seek  pleasure  regardless 
of  everything  else,  and  do  they  feel  that  they  ought 
to  seek  everything  else  for  the  sake  of  pleasure  ? 


CHAPTER  IX 

THE  HIGHEST  GOOD* 

1.  The  Question  of  Ends  or  Ideals.  —  Our  exami- 
nation has  shown  us  that  pleasure  cannot  be  regarded 
as  the  end  of  action,  in  whatever  sense  we  take  the 
word  end.  Then  what  is  the  end  ?  If  we  mean  by 
the  question,  What  is  the  motive  to  action  ?  we  can- 
not answer  in  a  single  word.  All  ideas  are  more 
or  less  impulsive,  indeed  every  conscious  state  tends 
to  translate  itself  into  movement ;  consciousness  is 
motor.  If  we  mean  by  the  question,  What  is  the 
final  goal  at  which  human  beings  are  consciously 
and  deliberately  aiming?  then  our  answer  must 
be,  Human  beings  have  not  a  definite  end  in  view 
toward  which  they  are  consciously  and  methodically 
moving.  We  do  not  plan  our  lives  so  carefully,  we 
do  not  first  set  up  an  ideal  and  then  try  to  realize  it. 
Individuals  and  nations  may  be  said  to  have  certain 
ideals,  but  not  in  the  sense  that  they  are  clearly  con- 
scious of  them. 

1  See  the  authors  mentioned  in  chap,  vii,  especially  Stephen, 
Science  of  Ethics,  chaps,  iv,  ix,  x ;  Jhering,  Zweck  im  Becht,  Vol. 
II,  95  fL;  Wundt,  Ethics,  pp.  493  ff.;  Hoffding,  Ethik,  VI;  Paulsen, 
Ethics,  Introduction,  also  pp.  275  ff . ;  also  Ziegler,  Sittliches  Sein 
und  sittliches  Werden;  Williams,  Evolutional  Ethics,  Part  II, 
chaps,  vii,  viii,  ix.  See  also  my  article,  "The  Moral  Law,"  in 
the  International  Journal  of  Ethics,  January,  1900. 

250 


THE  HIGHEST  GOOD  251 

We  can  say,  however,  that  every  animal  desires  to 
live  in  its  own  peculiar  way.  The  lion  desires  to 
live  the  life  of  a  lion,  man  the  life  of  a  man.  The 
brute  is,  of  course,  not  conscious  of  the  ultimate  con- 
sequences of  its  strivings.  It  desires  food  and  cares 
for  its  young  not  because  it  has  before  its  conscious- 
ness the  idea  of  individual  and  race  preservation. 
It  is  not  necessary  that  it  should  know  all  these 
things ;  the  important  thing  is  that  it  should  do 
them. 

When  we  examine  the  acts  desired  by  animals,  we 
find  that  they  are  purposive,  that  they  realize  a  pur- 
pose. The  lion  roams  over  the  desert  seeking  for 
prey,  and  when  he  finds  it  he  acts  in  a  manner  appro- 
priate to  his  purpose.  The  lioness  cares  for  her 
young  much  like  a  human  mother.  We  may  say 
that  the  actions  of  these  animals  tend  toward  their 
self-preservation  as  well  as  toward  the  preservation 
of  the  species.  And  we  may,  therefore,  say  in  a  cer- 
tain sense  that  these  animals  desire  their  own  and 
their  species'  good,  not,  however,  that  they  have  in 
consciousness  an  ideal  toward  which  they  are  work- 
ing, and  for  the  realization  of  which  they  are  using 
everything  else  as  a  means.  Their  desires  are 
directed  toward  concrete  acts,  which  we  may  embrace 
under  different  classes,  not  toward  abstract  ideals. 

Now,  human  beings,  like  other  animals,  have  their 
minds  fixed  upon  specific  acts  without  being  neces- 
sarily conscious  of  the  ultimate  consequences  of  these 
acts.  They  desire  these  acts,  not  for  the  sake  of  any 


252  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

ultimate  good,  but  for  the  sake  of  the  acts  them- 
selves  and  their  immediate  consequences.  I  may 
benefit  others  because  I  love  to  do  so,  without  being 
aware  that  I  am  thereby  bettering  humanity,  and 
without  consciously  striving  after  that  end.  I  may 
study  from  a  love  of  study,  because  I  have  certain 
intellectual  impulses,  without  being  conscious  that 
the  realization  of  my  desires  will  assist  in  civilizing 
the  world,  and  without  intending  to  work  for  prog- 
ress. Or  I  may  be  thoroughly  conscious  of  what  I 
am  doing  and  for  what  I  am  doing  it,  I  may  be  gov- 
erned in  all  my  conduct  by  a  clearly  conceived  ideal. 

Now,  different  persons  may  have  different  ideals 
(meaning  by  ideals  the  direction  which  their  im- 
pulses are  taking,  whether  they  are  conscious  of  it  or 
not).  And  the  same  individual  may  have  different 
ideals  at  different  times,  nay,  even,  different  ideals 
at  the  same  time.  One  ideal  may  give  way  to  an- 
other, which  in  turn  may  be  relieved  by  a  third. 
Moreover,  ideals  are  more  clearly  presented  in  some 
consciousnesses  than  in  others,  and  govern  the  lives 
of  some  individuals  more  characteristically  than 
those  of  others. 

Collective  bodies  like  individuals  move  in  certain 
directions  in  obedience  to  their  characteristic  desires, 
and  have  their  ideals.  Different  nations  have  dif- 
ferent ideals,  and  the  same  nation  may  have  different 
ideals  at  different  times.  A  nation's  ideal  manifests 
itself  in  all  its  products —  in  its^rejjgipn,  philosophy,  i, 
poetry,  art,  literature,  science,  politics,  morality,  etc. 


THE  HIGHEST  GOOD  253 

The  ideals  of  the  Jews,  Athenians,  and  Spartans 
were  not  the  same.  The  ideal  of  the  earlier  Romans 
differed  largely  from  that  of  the  Empire,  and  the 
ideal  of  the  modern  times  does  not  agree  with  the 
ideal  of  the  Middle  Ages. 

2.  The  Ideal  of  Humanity.  —  All  these  facts  show 
us  how  hard  it  must  be  to  answer  the  question, 
What  is  the  highest  good  or  ideal  which  humanity  is 
striving  to  reach?  in  anything  but  a  very  general 
way.  We  can  say  that  human  beings  desire  to  live 
human  lives,  which  is  a  general  statement  of  the 
fact  that  they  have  specific  impulses,  desires,  or 
tendencies.  They  not  only  desire  to  live,  but  to  live 
in  specific  ways.  They  love  to  exercise  their  powers 
and  to  develop  their  capacities.  In  the  words  of 
Paulsen  :  "  The  goal  at  which  the  will  of  every  liv- 
ing creature  aims,  is  the  normal  exercise  of  the  vital 
functions  which  constitute  its  nature.  Every  animal 
desires  to  live  the  life  for  which  it  is  predisposed. 
Its  natural  disposition  manifests  itself  in  impulses, 
and  determines  its  activity.  The  formula  may  also 
be  applied  to  man.  He  desires  to  live  a  human  life 
and  all  that  is  implied  in  it ;  that  is,  a  mental,  his- 
torical life,  in  which  there  is  room  for  the  exercise  of 
all  human  mental  powers  and  virtues.  He  desires 
to  play  and  to  learn,  to  work  and  to  acquire,  to 
possess  and  to  enjoy,  to  form  and  to  create  ;  he  de- 
sires to  love  and  to  admire,  to  obey  and  to  rule,  to 
fight  and  to  win,  to  make  poetry  and  to  dream,  to 
think  and  to  investigate.  And  he  desires  to1  do  all 


254  INTRODUCTION-  TO  ETHICS 

these  things  in  their  natural  order  of  development^ 
as  life  provides  them.  He  desires  to  experience  the 
relations  of  the  child  to  its  parents,  of  the  pupil  to 
his  teacher,  of  the  apprentice  to  the  master  ;  and  his 
will,  for  the  time  being,  finds  the  greatest  satisfac- 
tion in  such  a  life.  He  desires  to  live  as  a  brother 
among  brothers,  as  a  friend  among  friends,  as  a 
companion  among  companions,  as  a  citizen  among 
citizens,  and  also  to  prove  himself  an  enemy  against 
enemies.  Finally,  he  desires  to  experience  what  the 
lover,  husband,  and  father  experience  —  he  desires  to 
rear  and  educate  children  who  shall  preserve  and 
transmit  the  contents  of  his  own  life.  And  after  he 
has  lived  such  a  life  and  has  acquitted  himself  like 
an  honest  man,  he  has  realized  his  desires ;  his  life  is 
complete  ;  contentedly  he  awaits  the  end,  and  his 
last  wish  is  to  be  gathered  peacefully  to  his  fathers." l 
That  is,  to  speak  in  general  terms,  man  has  certain 
impulses  and  longings,  which  he  seeks  to  live  out. 
As  Professor  James  puts  it,  he  has  a  material  me,  a 
social  me,  and  a  spiritual  me,  and  the  corresponding 
feelings  and  impulses.  He  desires  to  preserve  and 
develop  his  body,  to  clothe  it,  to  adorn  it,  to  house 
it,  to  acquire  and  enjoy  property,  friends,  and  other 
possessions,  to  get  social  recognition,  to  be  loved  and 
admired,  to  promote  his  spiritual  interests,  and  to 
assist  his  fellows  in  realizing  similar  desires. 

We  may  generalize  and  say  :  Man  desires  his  pres- 
ervation and  development,  physical  and  mental.     He 
1  Ethics,  Bk.  II,  chap,  ii,  §  5. 


THE  HIGHEST  GOOD  255 

desires  to  know,  to  feel,  to  will,  and  to  act.  Some 
philosophers  have  regarded  intellect  (reason)  as  the 
goal,  others  have  emphasized  the  feelings  (pleasure), 
and  still  others  have  designated  action,  as  the  end.1 
Some  have  advised  us  to  eradicate  all  material  striv- 
ings, and  to  care  only  for  the  health  of  the  soul,  by 
which  they  meant  either  our  moral  or  religious  nature, 
or  both.  Mediaeval  ascetics  regarded  the  body  and 
all  impulses  except  the  desire  to  be  united  with  God, 
as  obstacles  in  the  path  of  man.  Natural  impulses 
were  regarded  as  the  work  of  the  devil,  and  there- 
fore as  things  that  ought  to  be  suppressed.  We 
must,  however,  beware  of  one-sidedness  here,  and 
not  emphasize  one  element  at  the  expense  of  another. 
We  may  say  that  human  life  and  the  development  | 
of  human  life  is  the  end.  But  by  life  we  do  not 
mean  mere  eating  and  drinking,  i.e.,  the  preservation 
of  the  body,  or  the  exercise  of  any  other  single  phase 
of  life,  such  as  thinking,  feeling,  or  willing,  but 
the  unfolding  of  all  human  capacities  in  conformity 
with  the  demands  of  the  natural  and  human  environ- 
ment. The  end  is  the  development  of  body  and  mind 
in  harmony  with  each  other,  the  unfolding  of  all 
powers  and  capacities  of  the  soul,  cognitive,  emo- 
tional, and  volitional,  in  adaptation  to  both  physical 
and  psychical  surroundings.  A  person  is  realizing 

1  Aristotle,  Ethics,  Bk.  I,  chap,  iii  ("Welldon's  translation) : 
"Thus  ordinary  or  vulgar  people  conceive  it  (the  good)  to  be 
pleasure,  and  accordingly  approve  a  life  of  enjoyment.  For 
there  are  practically  three  prominent  lives,  the  sensual,  the  politi- 
cal, and,  thirdly,  the  speculative." 


256  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

the  highest  good  when  his  inner  life  is  well  ordered 
or  rationalized  ;  when  the  so-called  lower  forces  are 
subordinated  to  the  higher  spiritual  powers ;  when 
he  is  what  the  Greeks  called  o-axfrpov  (sophron),  or 
healthy-minded;  when  his  body  is  the  servant  and 
symbol  of  the  soul,  and  like  a  good  servant  does 
much  and  demands  little;  when  there  is  a  proper 
balance  between  his  egoistic  and  altruistic  impulses 
and  acts,  —  in  short,  when  he  is  a  virtuous  man.1 

When  we  declare  that  the  end  of  human  striving 
is  the  unfolding  of  human  life,  we  merely  indicate 
the  end  in  vague  and  general  outlines.  We  cannot 
give  a  detailed  and  definite  account  of  what  we  mean 
by  human  life  ;  we  must  allow  humanity  to  fill  in 
the  content  itself.  We  can  tell  what  life  is  only  by 
living  it.  As  life  is  movement,  action,  the  unfolding 
irof  capacities,  our  goal  cannot  be  a  fixed  or  stable 
one;  we  cannot  imagine  that  we  shall  ever  reach  a 

1  The  following  quotation,  from  Huxley's  Science  and  Educa- 
tion, will  show  us  what  that  writer  regards  as  the  highest  good : 
"That  man,  I  think,  has  a  liberal  education  who  has  been  so 
trained  in  youth  that  his  body  is  the  ready  servant  of  his  will,  and 
does  with  ease  and  pleasure  all  the  work  that,  as  a  mechanism,  it 
is  capable  of  ;  whose  intellect  is  a  clear,  cold,  logic  engine,  with  all 
its  parts  of  equal  strength,  and  in  smooth  working  order ;  ready, 
like  a  steam  engine,  to  be  turned  to  any  kind  of  work,  and  spin 
the  gossamers  as  well  as  forge  the  anchors  of  the  mind ;  whose 
mind  is  stored  with  the  great  and  fundamental  truths  of  Nature 
and  of  the  laws  of  her  operations  ;  one  who,  no  stunted  ascetic,  is 
full  of  life  and  fire,  but  whose  passions  are  trained  to  come  to  heel 
by  a  vigorous  will,  the  servant  of  a  tender  conscience ;  who  has 
learned  to  love  all  beauty,  whether  of  Nature  or  of  art,  to  hate  all 
vileness,  and  to  respect  others  as  himself."  p.  86. 


THE  HIGHEST  GOOD  257 


point  of  rest,  a  stopping-place. 
able  goal  ;  in  fact,  there  is  no  goal  in  the  sense  of  a 
destination  to  be  reached.  History  and  anthropology 
show  us  how  humanity  has  moved  from  ideal  to  ideal, 
how  there  has  been  a  gradual  unfolding  and  differen- 
tiation of  faculties,  how  society  has  advanced  from  the 
simple  to  the  complex.  We  may  say  that  humanity 
has  taken  each  step  consciously,  without,  however, 
being  aware  of  what  the  next  step  would  be.  Our 
thoughts  are  fixed  upon  the  present  and  immediate 
mainly,  and  now  and  then  we  get  a  faint  glimpse  of 
the  future  and  remote.  We  do  the  work  that  lies, 
nearest  to  us,  and  pass  on  to  the  next  problem,  with- 
out knowing  what  the  solution  will  be  and  to  what 
new  problems  it  will  give  rise.  So  the  human  race 
performs  its  tasks,  and  takes  up  new  ones  when  these 
are  accomplished.  We  cannot  tell  what  the  next 
problem  will  be,  although,  of  course,  our  knowledge 
of  the  past  will,  in  a  certain  measure,  enable  us  to 
indicate  the  direction  in  which  the  times  are  moving. 
As  Jhering  aptly  says  :  "  Wherein  the  weal  and 
happiness  of  society  consist  is  a  question  that  cannot 
be  answered  by  theory.  The  history  of  mankind 
answers  it  as  she  unrolls  leaf  by  leaf  of  her  book. 
Every  end  attained  contains  within  itself  a  new  one. 
The  first  goal  must  be  reached  before  the  next  one 
-can  be  sighted.  Of  the  perfect  form  of  the  well- 
-being of  mankind  we  have  no  idea  at  all."1 

1  Der  Zweck  im  Becht,  Vol.  II,  p.  205.      See  also  Hoffding, 
Ethik,  pp.  103  ff.:  "  Every  achievement  of  an  end  is  but  the  begin- 


258  INTRODUCTION-  TO  ETHICS 

3.  Egoism  and  Altruism.1  —  The  end  or  purpose, 
then,  of  all  human  striving,  the  summum  bonum,  is 
the  preservation  and  perfection  of  human  life.     But 
the  question  at  once  arises,  Whose  preservation  and 
perfection  are  we  aiming  at,  our  own  or   that   of 
others  ?     Here  again,  as  we  saw  before,2  two  answers 
are  usually  given.     I  may  regard  as  the  ideal  my 
own  good  or  the  good  of  the  race.     In  the  one  case 
we  have  egoism,  in  the  other,  altruism.     Now  which 
of  these  views  is  correct  ? 

Let  us  formulate  the  problem  of  egoism  and  altru- 
ism in  this  way.     Let  us  ask:  (a)  What  is  the  end  / 
realized  by  human   action?   and  (6)    What  is  the,' 
motive  in  the  mind  of  the  agent  ? 

4.  The  Effects  of  Action.  —  Generally  speaking,  the 
acts  performed  by  mankind  have  the  tendency  to 
promote  individual  and   social  welfare.     Whatever 
may  be  his  motive,  it  may  be  said  that  every  individ- 
ual performs  acts  which  influence,  not  only  himself, 
but  others.     The  relations  between  man  and  man  are 


ning  of  a  new  end.  Welfare  is  therefore  not  a  passive  condition, 
but  activity,  work,  development."  See  also  Wundt,  Ethics,  and 
Paulsen,  Ethics,  Introduction,  and  Bk.  II,  chap,  ii,  §§  7  ff. 

1  For  views  similar  to  those  expressed  in  the  following  sections, 
see  the  ethical  works  of  Bacon,  Cumberland,  Shaftesbury,  Hutche- 
son,  Butler,  Hume,  A.  Smith,  J.  S.  Mill,  Bain,  Darwin,  Sidgwick ; 
Spencer,  Data  of  Ethics,  chaps,  xi-xiv;  Stephen,  Science  of  Ethics, 
chap,  vi ;  Hoffding,  Ethik,  VIII ;  Paulsen,  Ethics,  Bk.  II,  chap,  vi ; 
Simmel,  Einleitung,  Vol.  I,  chap,  ii ;  Williams,  Evol.  Ethics,  Part 
II,  chaps,  v,  vi ;   Harris,  Moral  Evolution;  Drummond,  Ascent  of 
Man  ;  Sutherland,  The  Origin  and  Growth  of  the  Moral  Instinct. 

2  See  chap,  iv,  §  6. 


THE  HIGHEST  GOOD  259 

so  close  in  a  civilized  community  that  every  member's 
behavior  is  bound  to  produce  effects  upon  the  envi- 
ronment as  well  as  upon  the  agent  himself.  The 
man  who  cares  for  his  body,  be  his  motive  what  it 
may,  is  benefiting  others  almost  as  much  as  himself ; 
while  he  who  has  a  proper  regard  for  the  health  of 
his  fellows  cannot  fail  to  be  benefited  in  his  own  per- 
son by  his  action.  What  benefits  my  family  has  a 
tendency  to  benefit  me,  and  what  benefits  me  has  a 
tendency  to  benefit  my  family.  Similarly,  what 
benefits  the  society  in  which  I  live  tends  to  benefit 
me,  and  what  benefits  me  tends  to  benefit  the  society 
of  which  I  am  a  member.1  "The  purely  egoistic 
character  of  so-called  personal  virtues,  for  the  asser- 
tion of  which  so  much  has  been  written,  is  a  myth. 
No  man  can  make  a  sot  of  himself,  or  indeed  injure 
himself  in  any  way,  without  reducing  his  power  to 
benefit  society,  and  harming  those  nearest  to  him."2 
Similarly,  "  we  are  accustomed  to  regard  honesty  in 
economic  life  as  a  duty  to  others,  but  it  is  no  less  a 
duty  of  the  individual  to  himself.  Many  proverbs 
express  the  experience  of  the  race  on  this  point : 
Honesty  is  the  best  policy  ;  Ill-gotten  goods  seldom 
prosper ;  The  biter  is  sometimes  bit ;  111  got,  ill 
spent."3  The  organ  which  performs  its  own  func- 

1  See  Spencer,  Data  of  Ethics,  chaps,  xi  ff. ;  Paulsen,  Ethics, 
Bk.  II,  chap.  vi. 

2  Williams,  A  Review  of  Evolutional  Ethics,  Part  II,  chaps,  v 
and  vi. 

8  Paulsen,  Ethics,  p.  385.    See  Bishop  Butler,  Human  Nature  and 
other  Sermons,  Sermon  i ;  end  of  Sermon  iii ;  beginning  of  Sermon  v. 


260  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

tions  properly  promotes  the  health  of  the  entire 
organism,  and  the  health  of  the  whole  organism  is 
advantageous  to  each  particular  organ.  The  indi- 
vidual is  not  an  isolated  atom,  but  a  part  of  a  whole, 
influencing  the  whole  and  influenced  by  it.1 

We  cannot,  therefore,  draw  a  sharp  distinction  be- 
tween egoistic  and  altruistic  acts  according  to  their 
effects  ;  an  act  affects  not  only  the  agent  or  another, 
but  both.  "  There  is  no  act,"  as  Paulsen  says,2  "  that 
does  not  influence  the  life  of  the  individual  as  well 
as  that  of  the  surroundings,  and  hence  cannot  and 
must  not  be  viewed  and  judged  from  the  standpoint 
of  both  individual  and  general  welfare.  The  tra- 
ditional classification,  which  distinguishes  between 
duties  toward  self  and  duties  toward  others,  can- 
not be  recognized  as  a  legitimate  division.  There  is 
no  duty  toward  individual  life  that  cannot  be  con- 
strued as  a  duty  toward  others,  and  no  duty  toward 
others  that  cannot  be  proved  to  be  a  duty  toward 
self."  In  its  effects  the  act  is  both  egoistic  and  altru- 
istic. We  may  regard  such  acts  as  tend  to  promote 
both  individual  and  social  welfare  as  the  products  of 
evolution.  Persons  performing  acts  benefiting  them- 
selves, but  interfering  with  the  welfare  of  the  group 
in  which  they  lived,  as  well  as  persons  performing 
acts  benefiting  the  group,  but  injuring  themselves, 
perished  in  the  struggle  for  existence.  Such  persons, 

1  See  the  systems  of  Cumberland  and  Shaftesbury,  chap,  vii, 
§§  9,  10. 

a  Ethics,  p.  383. 


THE  HIGHEST  GOOD  261 

however,  as  learned  to  perform  acts  benefiting  both 
themselves  and  the  community,  survived,  and  trans- 
mitted their  modes  of  behavior  to  their  offspring, 
either  by  heredity  or  education,  or  both. 

5.    The  Motives  of  Action.  —  Some  thinkers  divide 
acts  into  egoistic  and  altruistic  according  to  the  motives 
I  of  the  agent  who  performs  them.     Egoistic  acts  are 
such  as  are  prompted  solely  by  regard  for  self ;  altru-      > 
istic  acts  are  such  as  are  prompted  solely  by  regard 
for  others.    And  it  is  asserted  by  some  that  there  are     ( 
no  real  altruistic  acts  in  this  sense  ;  that  all  acts  are 
egoistic  or  instigated  by  a  selfish  motive. 

Thus  ^obJ2£s  holds  that  every  individual^sfcpyes 
to  preserve  him  self. -that  whatever  furthers  his  -awn., 
well-being.. is- de^r.&d~hyjhimjj;ta^  for  others 

^  only  in  so-fa*- -as-  t^y--are-mettTre-404ii&  own  welfare. 
But  since  every  other  in  dividual,  has  J)h£  same  object 
in  view,  and  since  this  object  cannot  be  realized 
unless  each  individual  makes  certain  concessions  to 
his  fellows, "men : "  aist>-~ftGt . for  the  good  of  others.1 

According  to  Mandeville,2  "all  actions  including 
the  so-called  virtues  spring  from  vanity  and  egoism." 
Shaftesbury  is  wrong  in  assuming  the  existence  of 
unselfish  affections  or  impulses.     Man  is  by  nature  ! 
self-seeking,  fear  makes  him  social.     Actions  which  \ 
apparently  imply  the  sacrifice  of  selfish  inclinations 

1  Chap,  vii,  §  7.    This  view  was  opposed  by  Cumberland.    See 
chap,  vii,  §  9. 

2  Fable  of  the  Bees;  or  Private  Vices  Public  Benefits,  1714 ; 
written  in  opposition  to  Shaftesbury's  system. 


262  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 


the  good  of  society  are  really  done  out  of  pride 
and  self-love.  And  this  is  as  it  should  be.  "Greed, 
extravagance,  envy,  ambition,  and  rivalry  are  the 
roots  of  the  acquisitive  impulse,  and  contribute  more 
to  the  public  good  than  benevolence  and  the  con- 
trol of  desire."1  Hence  the  welfare  of  society  really 
depends  upon  the  vice  (egoistic  impulses)  of  its  mem- 
bers. A  similar  view  had  already  been  expressed 
by  La  Rochefoucauld,2  who  regards  amour-propre,  or 
self-love,  as  the  only  motive  to  human  action,  and 
La  Bruyere.3  Lamettrie,4  the  materialist,  is  also  an 
egoist  in  ethics,  as  are  also  Helvetius,5  Frederick 
the  Great,  Voltaire,  D'Alembert,  and  Holbach,  the 
author  of  the  Systeme  de  la  nature.  Q 

Helvetius  holds  that  there  is  but  one  really  origi- 
nal and  innate  impulse  in  man  —  amour-propre,  self- 
love.  Self-love  is  the  source  of  all  our  desires  and 
emotions;  all  other  dispositions  are  acquired.  Moral- 
ity is  made  possible  by  educating  men  to  see  their 
own  interest  in  the  general  interest.  The  expecta- 
tion of  reward  is  the  only  motive  to  morality  ;  If  iF 
were  not  to  our  interest  to  love  virtue,  there  would 
be  no  virtue.7 

1  Quoted  from  Falckenberg,  History  of  Modern  Philosophy, 
translated  by  Armstrong,  pp.  202,  203. 

2  In  his  Reflexions,  ou  sentences  et  maximes  morales,  1665. 
8  In  his  Les  characteres  et  les  moeurs  de  ce  siecle,  1687. 

4  1709-1751.  6  See  chap,  ii,  §  6  (3).  «  1776. 

7  See  also  Paley  and  Bentham,  whose  systems  are  given  in  chap. 
vi.  Hartley  and  his  school  regard  the  egoistic  impulses  as  pri- 
mary, and  sympathy  as  secondary  or  derivative.  With  this  view, 
Jhering,  Zweck  im  Recht,  Vol.  II,  agrees.  The  following  claim 


THE  HIGHEST  GOOD  263 

6.  Criticism  of  Egoism.  —  This  theory  seems  to  me 
to  be  false.  It  is  not  true  that  the  sole  motive  of 
human  action  is  the  preservation  and  advancement 
of  self.  To  say  that  an  act  was  prompted  by  a 
selfish  motive  may  mean  one  of  two  things.  It  may 
mean  either  (a)  that  the  agent  had  his  own  welfare 
clearly  in  view  in  performing  the  act,  that  is,  that 
he  knew  that  it  was  going  to  benefit  him  and  de- 
sired it  for  that  reason  ;  or  it  may  mean  (6)  that 
he  desired  certain  acts  which  happened  to  be  advan- 
tageous to  him,  without,  however,  knowing  that  they 
were  so. 

(1)  If  we  interpret  egoism  in  the  first  sense, 
then,  it  seems  to  me,  many  acts  which  are  called 
egoistic  are  really  neither  egoistic  nor  altruistic; 
that  is,  the  doer  of  them  is  not  conscious  of  the 
purpose  they  realize.  The  mere  fact  that  an  animal 
desires  an  act  which  turns  out  to  be  self-preservative 
will  not  allow  us  to  infer  that  there  was  a  selfish 
motive  behind  it.  When  the  cat  runs  after  the 
mouse,  she  cannot  really  be  said  to  care  for  herself, 
but  for  the  mouse.  She  desires  the  mouse  for  its 
own  sake,  and  has  no  idea  of  benefiting  herself. 
"  Our  interest  in  things"  says  Professor  James, "  means 
the  attention  and  emotion  which  the  thought  of  them 
will  excite,  and  the  actions  which  their  presence  will 

that  both  egoism  and  sympathy  are  original  %  Bacon,  Cumberland, 
Shaftesbury,  Hutcheson,  Butler,  Hume,  A.  Smith,  J.  S.  Mill,  Bain, 
Darwin,  Sidgwick,  Spencer,  Stephen,  Paulsen,  and  Hoffding;  and 
in  fact,  almost  all  the  modern  psychologists. 


264  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

evoke.  Thus  every  species  is  particularly  interested 
in  its  own  prey  or  food,  its  own  enemies,  its  own 
sexual  mates,  and  its  own  young.  These  things 
fascinate  by  their  intrinsic  power  to  do  so  ;  they  are 
cared  for  for  their  own  sakes.  What  my  comrades 
call  my  bodily  selfishness  or  self-love,  is  nothing  but 
the  sum  of  all  the  outer  acts  which  this  interest  in 
my  body  spontaneously  draws  from  me.  My  '  self- 
ishness '  is  here  but  a  descriptive  name  for  grouping 
together  the  outward  symptoms  which  I  show. 
When  I  am  led  by  self-love  to  keep  my  seat  whilst 
ladies  stand,  or  to  grab  something  first  and  cut  out 
my  neighbor,  what  I  really  love  is  the  comfortable 
seat,  is  the  thing  itself  which  I  grab.  I  love  them 
primarily,  as  the  mother  loves  her  babe,  or  a  gen- 
erous man  an  heroic  deed.  Wherever,  as  here, 
self-seeking  is  the  outcome  of  simple  instinctive 
propensity,  it  is  but  a  name  for  certain  reflex  acts. 
Something  rivets  my  attention  fatally,  and  fatally 
provokes  the  '  selfish  '  response.  Could  an  automa- 
ton be  so  skilfully  constructed  as  to  ape  these  acts, 
it  would  be  called  selfish  as  properly  as  I.  It  is  true 
that  I  am  no  automaton,  but  a  thinker.  But  my 
thoughts,  like  my  acts,  are  here  concerned  only  with 
the  outward  things.  They  need  neither  know  nor 
care  for  any  pure  principle  within.  In  fact,  the 
more  utterly  '  selfish '  I  am  in  this  primitive  way, 
the  more  blindly  absorbed  my  thought  will  be  in  the 
objects  and  impulses  of  my  lusts,  and  the  more  de- 
void of  any  inward-looking  glance.  A  baby,  whose 


THE  HIGHEST  GOOD  265 

consciousness  of  the  pure  Ego,  of  himself  as  a 
thinker,  is  not  usually  supposed  developed,  is,  in 
this  way,  as  some  German  has  said, '  der  vollendetste 
Egoist.'"1 

(2)  If,  however,  we  interpret  egoism  in  the  sec- 
ond sense,  and  say  that  such  acts  are  selfish  which 
happen  to  be  advantageous  to  the  agent  (even  with- 
out his  knowing  it),  then,  again,  it  is  not  true  that 
all  acts  are  egoistic.     For  many  acts  are  performed 
and  desired  by  animals  as  well  as  men,  which  are 
beneficial  not  only  to  the  individual  who  performs 
them,  but  also  to  the  species  to  which  he  belongs, 
as  we  have  already  seen.     That  is  to  say,  human 
beings  do  not  perform  and  desire  only  acts  which 
are  conducive  to  their  own  welfare. 

(3)  It  is  not  true  that  we  care  for  ourselves  alone. 
We  care  for  ourselves  and  we  care  for  others.2     The 

1  James,  Psychology,  Vol.  I,  pp.  320  f .  See  also  Hume,  Inquiry 
concerning  the  Principles  of  Morals,  Appendix  II,  end:  "In  the 
same  manner,  there  are  mental  passions,  by  which  we  are  impelled 
immediately  to  seek  particular  objects,  such  as  fame,  or  power,  or 
vengeance,  without  any  regard  to  interest ;  and  when  these  objects 
are  attained,  a  pleasing  enjoyment  ensues,  as  the  consequence  of 
our  indulged  affections.  Nature  must,  by  the  internal  frame  and 
constitution  of  the  mind,  give  an  original  propensity  to  fame  ere 
we  can  reap  any  pleasure  from  that  acquisition,  or  pursue  it  from 
motives  of  self-love,  and  a  desire  of  happiness.  In  all  these  cases, 
there  is  a  passion  which  points  immediately  to  the  object,  and  con- 
stitutes it  our  good  or  happiness  ;  as  there  are  other  secondary 
passions  which  afterward  arise,  and  pursue  it  as  a  part  of  our 
happiness,  when  once  it  is  constituted  such  by  our  original  affec- 
tions. Were  there  no  appetite  of  any  kind  antecedent  to  self-love, 
that  propensity  could  scarcely  ever  exert  itself,"  etc. 

2Ladd,  Psychology,  p.  586:  "In  concrete  fact,  men  think  and 


266  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

assertion  that  we  care  for  ourselves  alone  falls  as 
short  of  the  truth  as  the  assertion  that  we  care  for 
others  alone.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  every  human  being 
I  is  both  egoistic  or  selfish,  and  altruistic  or  unselfish. 
Parents  who  love  their  children  and  are  willing  to 
sacrifice  certain  comforts  in  life  in  order  that  their 
children  may  prosper,  are  altruistic  ;  the  soldier 
who  takes  up  arms  in  defence  of  his  country,  from 
love  of  his  country,  has  some  unselfish  motives.  In- 
deed, just  as  the  effects  of  acts  tend  to  both  personal 
and  general  good,  so  the  motives  may  be  both  ego- 
istic and  altruistic.  It  is  a  mistake  to  suppose  that 
every  act  has  but  one  motive.1  Many  motives  com- 
bine to  influence  the  will  to  action.  Every  man 
desires  to  live,  it  is  true,  but  he  also  desires  to 
keep  his  family  alive,  to  be  a  useful  member  of  the 
community,  to  help  others.  He  does  not  live  for 
himself  alone.  "  Tfeere  iaT"  says  TTnmp.r2  "some 


snrnPi  ^parTf  of  friendship  fnr  Tinman  Tdnrl  ; 

ticle  of  the  dove  kneaded  Jinto  pur  frame  along  with 
the_elements  of  the  wolf  and  serpent.  Ljat-.ttie§e 
generous  sentiments-be-  ^u^poselt'evef"  "so  weak  ;  let 
them  be  in&uffieient  "to"T»e¥6»-even-  -a  hand  or  finger 
of  our  boiiy^they  must  still  direct  the  determina- 
tions of  our  mind,  and,  where  everything  else  is 

feel  far  less  with  direct  reference  to  self  than  is  ordinarily  sup- 
sed." 

1  See  Darwin,  quoted  in  chap,  viii,  §  7  (1). 
•2  Inquiry  concerning  the  Principles  of  Morals^  Section  IV. 


THE  HIGHEST  GOOD  267 


prnflnnp.   a.   p.no]^j^pfp,T^if>(^_nf  what,   is   useful 

and  serviceable  -ta^jnankind  to  „,  what  is  pernicious 
and  dangerous."  1 


-and  lejLlix£._  His  impulses  are  turned  in  the  direc- 
tion of  self-preservation  and  the  preservation  of  his 
species.  This  means  that  he  desires  acts  which  tend  to 
preserve  himself  and  others.  He  need  not  know  that 
they  have  these  results  ;  but  he  may  become  aware 
of  the  utility  of  such  acts,  and  then  perform  them 
consciously,  in  order  to  realize  the  end  reached  by 
them.  Nature  often  works  in  the  dark,  as  it  were  ; 
the  object  may  be  realized  without  the  individual's 
knowing  what  it  is,  or  consciously  aiming  at  it. 

7.  Selfishness  and  Sympathy.  —  But,  it  may  be 
asked,  is  not  the  conscious  desire  to  benefit  oneself 
stronger  as  a  motive  than  that  to  advance  others  ? 
We  must  confess  that,  generally  speaking,  it  is. 
The  individual  desires  to  live,  first  of  all  ;  then  he 
desires  the  life  of  others.  This  is  as  it  should  be. 
Each  individual  must  perform  acts  which  make  for 

1  See  also  Section  V,  Part  II,  note  :  "  It  is  needless  to  push  our 
researches  so  far  as  to  ask  why  we  have  humanity,  or  a  fellow- 
feeling  with  others.  It  is  sufficient  that  this  is  experienced  to  be  a 
principle  of  human  nature.  We  must  stop  somewhere  in  our  exam- 
ination of  causes  ;  and  there  are,  in  every  science,  some  general 
principles,  beyond  which  we  cannot  hope  to  find  any  principle 
more  general.  No  man  is  absolutely  indifferent  to  the  happiness 
and  misery  of  others."  See  Paulsen,  Ethics,  Bk.  II,  chap,  vi; 
Williams,  Evolutional  Ethics,  pp.  383  ff.  ;  Darwin,  Descent  of 
Man,  chap,  iv  ;  Simmel,  Einleitung  in  die  Moralwissenschaft,  Vol. 
I,  chap,  ii;  Lipps,  Ethische  Grundfragen,  Lecture  I. 


INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

self-preservation,  and  it  is  to  be  supposed  that  the 
work  can  be  best  performed  by  the  person  directly 
interested.  But,  as  was  noticed  before,  the  acts 
tending  to  realize  his  purpose  do  not  necessarily  run 
counter  to  the  acts  of  others.  He  may  advance 
himself  without  interfering  with  others ;  indeed, 
by  looking  out  for  himself  and  his  interests,  he  in 
a  large  measure  advances  the  interests  of  the  whole 
of  which  he  forms  a  part,  and  at  the  same  time 
puts  himself  in  the  position  to  benefit  others  more 
directly.  Still,  there  is  a  point  beyond  which  indi- 
vidual aspirations  cannot  well  go  without  causing 
injury  to  others.  A  person's  conscious  desire  to 
advance  himself  may  become  so  strong,  or  external 
conditions  may  become  such,  as  to  tempt  him  to  seek 
his  own  welfare  at  the  expense  of  that  of  his  sur- 
roundings.1 In  order  to  hinder  this  result  and  to 
keep  each  individual  on  his  own  ground,  moral  codes 
have  been  developed,  and  these  in  turn  have  led  to 
the  development  of  moral  feelings.  In  other  words, 
morality  is  the  outgrowth  of  the  conflict  between 
individual  interests.  When  one  individual  injures 
another  in  the  struggle  for  existence,  he  arouses  the 
resentment  of  the  latter,  as  well  as  the  sympathetic 
resentment  of  all  disinterested  spectators.  The  com- 
bined feelings  and  impulses  aroused  by  the  aggres- 

1  It  is  also  possible  that  a  person's  sympathy  may  lead  him  to 
perform  acts  which  are  dangerous  to  the  community,  and  that  his 
selfishness  may  injure  him.  Wherever  his  acts  tend  to  harm  the 
community,  they  are  disapproved. 


THE  HIGHEST  GOOD  269 

sor's  selfishness  give  birth  to  injunctions :  Thou 
shalt,  and  Thou  shalt  not.  In  the  course  of  time, 
as  has  been  already  explained,  the  moral  sentiments 
are  developed,  and  come  to  the  rescue  of  the  sympa- 
thetic feelings  when  these  are  in  danger  of  being 
overwhelmed  by  selfishness.  If  it  were  not  for  the 
fact  that  human  beings  come  in  conflict  with  each 
other  in  their  desire  to  live,  there  would  be  no  need 
of  the  moral  law.  Moral  laws  aim  to  hinder  con- 
duct which  makes  impossible  social  life,  or  rather 
such  conduct  as  a  group  of  men  have  found  by 
experience,  or  believe,  to  be  antagonistic  to  their 
purposes.1 

8.  Moral  Motive  and  Moral  Action.  —  Men,  then, 

)*  are  neither  purely  egoistic  nor  purely  altruistic, 
whether  we  judge  their  conduct  from  the  standpoint 

.  of  the  motive  or  from  the  standpoint  of  the  effect. 
We  may  now  ask  :  (a)  How  ought  they  to  feel  in 
order  to  be  called  moral?  and  (5)  How  ought  they 
to  act  in  order  to  be  called  moral  ? 

(1)^  Schopenhauer  declares  that  no  act  has  moral  / 
worth  unless  it  is  the  result  of  pure  altruistic  feeling,  / 
unless  it  is  actuated  by  the  weal  or  woe  of  another. 

.  If  the  motive  which  impels  me  to  action  is  my  own 
welfare,  my  act  has  no  moral  worth  at  all.  Fichte 
goes  so  far  as  to  say  :  "  There  is  but  one  virtue,  and 
that  is  to  forget  oneself  as  a  person  ;  but  one  vice,  to 
think  of  oneself.  Whoever  in  the  slightest  degree 

1  See  article  on  the  "Moral  Law,"  in  the  International  Journal 
of  Ethics,  January,  1900. 


270  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

thinks  of  his  own  personality,  and  desires  a  life  and 
existence  and  any  self -enjoyment  whatsoever,  except 
for  the  species,  is  fundamentally  and  radically,  a 
petty,  low,  wicked,  and  wretched  fellow."1 

This  is  a  one-sided  view,  in  my  opinion.  The 
question  at  issue  here  is  not,  What  must  be  a  man's 
motive  in  order  that  you  or  I  may  regard  him  as 
moral  ?  but,  What  must  be  his  motive  in  order  that 
he  be  regarded  moral  in  the  judgment  of  the  race  ? 
Now,  are  only  such  acts  approved  of  by  mankind  as 
are  prompted  by  a  purely  altruistic  motive  ? 

We  can  hardly  claim  it.  In  the  first  place,  as  has 
already  been  pointed  out,  we  judge  of  acts  subjec- 
tively and  objectively.2  We  often  regard  an  act  as 
objectively  moral  regardless  of  the  motives  prompt- 
ing it.  Besides,  as  has  also  been  said,  our  motives 
are  always  complex  ;  they  are  never  absolutely  ego- 
iistic  or  absolutely  altruistic,  but  mixed.  We  do  not 
necessarily  call  a  man  immoral  because  he  cares  for 
his  own  welfare,  as  Fichte  holds  that  we  ought  to  do ; 
nor  do  we  call  an  act  that  is  prompted  by  a  mixture 
of  self-regarding  and  other -regarding  feelings  non- 
moral.  We  commend  a  person  who  is  industrious 
and  useful  because  he  desires  to  support  himself  and 
family.  It  is  not  necessary  that  a  man  do  what  he 
does  from  a  purely  altruistic  motive  and  no  other. 
He  may  act  from  a  sense  of  duty,  as  we  have  shown 
in  our  chapter  on  Conscience,  and  as  Kant  declares 

1  Characteristics  of  the  Present  Age,  §  70. 

2  See  chap,  v,  §  9  (6). 


THE  HIGHEST  GOOD  271 

he  must  act  in  order  that  his  act  may  have  moral 
worth  at  all. 

Still,  it  must  be  confessed  that,  if  his  motive  were 
absolutely  egoistic,  that  is,  if  he  did  what  he  did 
merely  in  order  to  benefit  himself,  regardless  of  the 
weal  and  woe  of  others,  if  he  had  no  spark  of  sympa- 
thy in  him,  we  should  not  regard  him  as  a  moral 
man.  Indeed,  we  should  regard  him  as  an  abnor- 
mal human  being,  as  a  perverse  character.  The 
reason  for  this  is  perhaps  to  be  sought  in  the  fact 
that  an  extreme  egoist  would  be  apt  to  endanger 
social  life.  A  man  who  thinks  of  himself  all  the 
time  and  of  himself  only,  will,  unless  he  be  exceed- 
ingly shrewd,  injure  others.  The  feelings  of  sym- 
pathy and  brotherly  love,  and  the  feelings  of  moral 
approval,  disapproval,  and  obligation,  will,  on  the 
other  hand,  tend  to  give  his  conduct  a  more  altruistic 
direction  and  thereby  promote  social  welfare.  The 
ends  of  morality  can,  therefore,  be  best  subserved  by 
human  beings  who  have  sympathetic  feelings  and 
impulses  in  addition  to  their  self -regarding  feelings 
and  impulses.  This  is  the  reason  why  the  sympa- 
thetic motive  is  valued,  and  why  acts  springing  from 
pure  egoism  are  often  regarded  as  not  falling  within 
the  scope  of  morals.  But  it  must  not  be  forgotten  : 
(a)  that  egoism  is  not  condemned  morally  as  long  as 
it  does  not  conflict  with  altruism  ;  (£>)  that  when  it 
cooperates  with  altruism  to  produce  good  results, 
it  receives  moral  approval ;  (<?)  that  when  its  absence 
causes  harm,  the  lack  of  it  is  condemned.  The 


272  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

suicide  who  cares  nothing  for  his  own  life  receives 
the  moral  disapproval  of  mankind. 

(2)  It  is  held  by  some  that  the  good  of  humanity 
is  best  achieved  by  the  unimpeded  play  of  egoism.1 
Man  should  satisfy  his  desire  for  power ;  he  ought 
to  live  for  himself  and  not  for  others,  and  not  allow 
himself  to  be  moved  by  compassion  or  pity,  which  is 
the  virtue  of  weaklings.  Everything  is  right  that 
increases  man's  consciousness  of  power,  his  desire 
for  power,  and  his  power.  Let  the  weaklings  and 
unhealthy  perish,  and  help  them  to  perish.  The 
strongest  ought  to  rule,  the  weak  obey.  The  anar- 
chist and  the  Christian,  says  Nietzsche,  are  made  of 
the  same  stuff  ;  they  are  both  rooted  in  sympathy, 
and  seek  to  hamper  the  progress  of  the  individual. 
A  similar  view  is  frequently  advanced  by  evolu- 
tionists. Life  is  governed  by  the  struggle  for  exist- 
ence, and  those  most  fitted  for  the  fray  are  selected 
(survival  of  the  fittest).  Only  when  this  principle 
is  allowed  to  act  without  hindrance  can  the  best 
results  be  obtained.  Altruism  is  a  means  of  injuring 
the  race,  not  a  means  of  preservation,  for  it  makes 
possible  the  survival  of  the  weak,  of  all  individuals 
not  adapted  to  their  environment.  Our  sympathy 
impels  us  to  care  for  and  to  preserve  the  weak,  the 
sick,  the  crippled,  and  the  insane,  elements  in  our 
population  which  the  free  play  of  egoism  would 
eliminate,  and  ought  to  be  allowed  to  eliminate,  for 
the  perfection  of  the  race. 

1  See,  for  example,  Stirner,  Der  Einzige  und  sein  Eigentum* 
and  Nietzsche's  writings. 


THE  HIGHEST  GOOD  27$ 

We  answer :  The  human  race  would  not  have 
reached  its  present  state  of  development  without  j 
the  aid  of  sympathy  and  cooperation.  It  vis  the 
social  instinct  in  animals  which  enables  them  to  act 
together,  and  it  is  this  tendency  to  cooperate  which 
gives  them  advantages  over  other  species.  In  union 
there  is  strength.  A  group  of  men  can  accomplish 
more  than  each  individual  singly.  If  there  were  no 
altruism  in  the  race,  what  would  become  of  offspring? 
"Would  social  life  be  possible  if  men  did  not  desire 
to  live  with  their  fellows,  and  is  not  this  desire  to 
associate  with  kind  altruism? 

Sympathy  and  cooperation  are  useful  to  the  race. 
If  they  were  not,  or  if  they  were  harmful,  they 
would  be  eliminated.  The  sympathetic  impulses, 
however,  do  not  seem  to  be  growing  weaker,  but 
stronger.  Of  course,  extreme  sympathy  is  danger-  \ 
ous,  as  dangerous  as  extreme  egoism.  Neither  our 
egoistic  nor  our  sympathetic  impulses  are  good  or  , 
bad  as  such  ;  they  are  made  so  by  the  controlling  / 
influence  of  reason.  Irrational  sympathy  is  bad, 
and  harmful  to  the  race,  and  ought  to  be  eliminated. 
And  the  same  remarks  apply  to  irrational  egoism. 
"  Social  harmony  can  never  be  reached  by  the  stub- 
born continuance  of  each  in  his  line  of  inharmonious 
conduct,  but  can  only  be  attained  by  such  gradual 
moulding  of  habit  and  desire,  that  by  natural  organi- 
zation individuals  will  come  to  be  in  harmony  with 
each  other.  It  is  the  history  of  social  evolution  that 
the  individual,  though  always  determining  what  are 


274  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

his  own  needs,  as  it  is  obvious  that  he  Can  best  do, 
is  increasingly  aided  in  satisfying  them  by  coopera- 
tion, while  he  also  gives  increasing  aid  in  return. 
Against  the  list  of  the  advantages  of  egoism  enu- 
merated by  Spencer  and  others,  I  would  muster  the 
advantages  of  altruism,  for  by  cooperation  alone  can 
the  individual  attain  the  pleasures  which  now  so 
often  lie  beyond  his  reach  ;  by  it  alone  can  society 
attain  a  higher  plane  ;  and  the  pleasures  of  altruism 
fare  the  highest  and  most  unfailing.  The  selfish  man 
will  suffer  disappointment  and  loss  as  well  as  the' 
benevolent  man,  and  he  will  lack  the  refuge  of  sym- 
pathy, and  of  the  power  to  find  happiness  in  the 
happiness  of  others.  What  man  who  has  felt  the 
joys  of  sympathy  would  exchange  even  the  hard- 
ships it  brings  for  the  brutal  liberty  and  unmoved 
selfishness  of  the  savage  ;  what  man  who  has  known 
the  joys  of  the  higher,  the  more  unselfish,  love,  would 
exchange  them  for  the  ungoverned  and  quickly 
palling  pleasures  of  the  profligate  ?  Those  joys  first 
lend  life  worth  and  meaning ;  through  association 
and  altruism,  cooperation  in  action  and  feeling,  man 
first  becomes  a  power  in  the  world.  Yet  the  man 
who  is  capable  of  the  higher  sympathy  is  incapable 
of  a  selfish  calculation  of  its  personal  advantages  to 
him."1 

(3)  And  now  let  us  look  at  the  acts  regardless  of 
the   motives   which  have   prompted   them.     Do  we 

1  Williams,  A  Review  of  Evolutional  Ethics,  chap,  viii,  p.  513. 
See  also  Paulsen,  Ethics,  Bk.  II,  chap,  vi,  §  5. 


THE  HIGHEST  GOOD  275 

demand  that  personal  interests  be  invariably  sacri- 
ficed to  the  interests  of  others  ?  And  must  we  make 
this  sacrifice  in  every  case  in  order  to  subserve  the 
ends  of  morality  ?  I  do  not  believe  it.  We  do  not 
expect  a  person  to  sacrifice  his  important  interests 
to  the  unimportant  interests  of  another.  It  is  right 
and  proper  that  a  person  should  sacrifice  himself  for 
the  real  interests  of  his  family ;  but  it  is  not  neces- 
sary that  he  should  sacrifice  himself  in  order  that 
his  wife  and  children  might  enjoy  things  which 
were  never  intended  for  them.  It  is  right  and  proper 
for  me  to  offer  up  my  life  in  the  defence  of  my 
country;  but  it  cannot  be  required  that  I  sacrifice 
myself  in  order  to  save  a  lady's  pug  dog  from  being 
run  over  by  a  carriage.  It  is  right  that  I  should 
deny  myself  many  pleasures  and  comforts  for  the 
sake  of  helping  others ;  but  it  is  not  right  that  I  J)  / 
should  ruin  my  health  and  impede  my  own  intellec- 
tual development  in  order  to  keep  a  drunken  loafer 
out  of  the  poorhouse. 

In  order  that  the  ends  of  morality  may  be  realized, 
men  must  be  altruistic,  of  course.  They  must  work 
for  others,  and  they  must  be  able  to  make  sacrifices 
for  others.  But  they  cannot  work  for  others  without 

j  first  working  for  themselves.  They  cannot  care  for 
themselves  in  the  proper  way  if  they  allow  their  care 

f  for  others  to  go  too  far.  We  may  say,  I  believe, 
that  each  man  ought  to  care  for  his  own  good, 
for  the  good  of  his  family,  for  his  neighbors,  his 
town,  his  county,  his  state,  his  nation,  and  humanity 


276  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

at  large.  He  should  work  from  the  centre  to  the 
periphery,  that  is,  protect  and  advance  his  own  inter- 
ests and  those  of  his  family,  and  then  those  of  far- 
ther circles.  Charity  begins  at  home.1  "  It  is  wisely  | 
ordained  by  nature,"  says  Hume,  "that  private  con- 
nections should  commonly  prevail  over  universal 
views  and  considerations ;  otherwise  our  affections 
and  actions  would  be  dissipated  and  lost  for  want  of 
a  proper  limited  object.  Thus  a  small  benefit  done 
to  ourselves  or  our  near  friends,  excites  more  lively 
sentiments  of  love  and  approbation,  than  a  great 
benefit  done  to  a  distant  commonwealth."2 

9.  Biology  and  the  Highest  (rood.  —  Biology,  too, 
will  give  us  some  hints  concerning  the  direction  of 
life  or  the  ideal  toward  which  we  are  making.  On 
the  lowest  stages  of  animal  existence  life  consists 
wholly  in  the  acquisition  of  food  and  in  attempts  to 
ward  off  unfavorable  external  influences.  If  there 
are  any  psychical  processes  at  all,  they  are  exceed- 
ingly^ simple.  Gradually,  however,  sexual  and  social 
impulses  arise,  the  intelligence  develops,  and  we  have 
the  beginnings  of  social  and  intellectual  life  which 
reach  their  highest  stage  in  man.  As  conscious  life 
develops  the  so-called  lower  faculties  are  subordi- 
nated to  the  higher  ones,  the  sensuous  feelings  and 
impulses  are  placed  under  the  control  of  the  reason, 
and  are  regarded  as  inferior  to  the  others  ;  the  ego- 
istic feelings  and  impulses  yield,  in  a  large  measure, 

1  See  Paulsen,  Ethics,  Bk.  II,  chap,  vi,  pp.  391  ff. 
*  Principles  of  Morals^  Section  V,  Part  II. 


THE  HIGHEST  GOOD  277 

to  sympathetic  feelings  and  impulses,  and  the  indi- 
vidual  is   subordinated   to   society.      The   spiritual 
forces  are  unfolded,  the  spiritual  me  takes  prece-  I 
dence  in  the  hierarchy  of  the  mes  of  the  material  | 
me.     The  "so-called  lower  functions  are  not,  of  course,  ' 
neglected ;  they  are  exercised,  on  the  one  hand,  for 
their  own  sake,  as  partial  ends  in  themselves,  but 
they  are   especially  conceived   as  means  to   higher 
ends  —  the  unfolding  of  the  spiritual  powers.     Simi- 
larly, the  individual  comes  to  be  regarded,  on  the 
one  hand,  as  a  whole,  as  an  end  in  himself,  and,  on 
the  other,  as  a  part  of  a  wider  whole,  as  a  part  of 
humanity.     We  may  liken  this  relation  to  the  rela- 
tion which  the  different  members  of   an  organism 
bear  to  the  entire  organism.     The  heart,  the  brain,  ( 
the  hands,  the  eyes,  the  muscles,  the  bones,  etc.,  are 
all  means  to  an  end,  the  preservation  of  the  body. 
But  they  are  at  the  same  time  parts  of  the  body ; 
they  are  the  body,  and  hence  means  of  preserving 
themselves.1     The  welfare  of  the  body  depends  upon   \ 
the  welfare  of  its  organs,  and  the  welfare  of  the 
organs  depends  upon  the  welfare  of  the  whole.     In  \ 
a  perfect  organism  the  parts  work  harmoniously  to 
a  common  end.      The   parts  are  means  to  an  end  ' 
(seeing^  is  a  means  to  an  end),  and  yet  ends  in  them- 
selves (seeing  is  valuable  in  itself).     So  the  indij 
vidual  is  both  a  means  to  an  end  and  an  end  in 
himself. 

We  may  safely  assert,  I  believe,  that  history  is 
1  See  Paulsen,  Ethics,  Bk.  II,  chap,  ii,  §  7. 


278  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

tending  toward  the  further  development  of  spiritual 
life  and  toward  a  fuller  realization  of  the  individual 
in  society.  We  may  say  that  humanity  will  continue 
to  advance  in  intelligence  and  morality,  that  man- 
kind will  gain  a  deeper  insight  into  the  workings  of 
psychical  and  physical  nature,  and  a  larger  control 
over  reality,  and  that  there  will  be  less  friction 
between  the  different  members  of  society  and  the 
different  societies  themselves.1 

10.  Morality  and  the  Highest  Good.  —  We  have 
found  thus  far,  I  believe,  that  the  preservation  and 
promotion  of  individual  and  social  life  is  the  highest 
good,  or  the  end  aimed  at  by  humanity,  in  the  sense 
explained  before.  That  is,  the  individual  human 
being  strives  to  preserve  and  advance  himself  as 
well  as  those  persons  with  whom  he  sympathizes. 
At  first  the  sympathetic  impulse  is  both  weak  and 
narrow  in  its  scope,  being  limited  to  the  members 
of  a  small  group.  In  the  course  of  time,  however, 
the  consciousness  of  kind  develops  more  and  more, 
the  feeling  of  sympathy  increases  in  intensity,  and 
extends  to  wider  and  wider  circles.  A  glance  at  the 
growth  of  religions,  which  always  embody  the  con- 
ceptions and  ideals  of  men,  exemplifies  this  gradual 
extension  of  other-regarding  or  sympathetic  feelings. 
There  is  an  advance  from  the  narrow  family  religion 
through  the  universal  type  to  the  universal  religion 
of  Christianity.2  The  history  of  Greece  and  Rome 

1  See  Sutherland,  Origin  and  Growth  of  the  Moral  Instinct. 
9  See  Sir  Henry  Maine,  Early  Law  and  Custom,  p.  57. 


THE  HIGHEST  GOOD  279 

also  shows  a  gradual  progress  of  sympathy.1  Of 
Rome  Lecky  says :  "  The  moral  expression  of  the 
first  period  is  obviously  to  be  found  in  the  narrower 
military  and  patriotic  virtues ;  that  of  the  second 
period  in  enlarged  philanthropy  and  sympathy."2 
Our  sympathies  are  widening  and  deepening  in  mod- 
ern times,  as  witness  universal  peace  congresses,  de- 
mands for  international  arbitration,  protests  against 
the  barbarities  practised  in  many  of  the  less  civilized 
countries,  the  progress  of  socialism,  itie  building  of 
hospitals  and  other  charitable  institutions,  the  estab- 
lishment of  societies  for  the  prevention  of  cruelty  to 
animals.  We  care  not  only  for  ourselves  as  indi-^ 
viduals  and  as  a  nation,  but  for  humanity  in  general. 
But  the  time  has  not  yet  come  when  there  will 
be  no  more  conflicts  between  self -regarding  impulses 
and  acts,  and  other-regarding  impulses  and  acts. 

£e  selfishness  of  the  individual  is  apt  to  overwhelm 
sympathy  in  many  instances,  and  to  lead  him  to 
encroach  upon  the  domain  of  others.  He  is,  how- 
ever, kept  in  check  by  the  self-assertion  of  those 
upon  whose  claims  he  trespasses,  as  well  as  by  the 
sympathetic  opposition  of  his  fellows.  Rules  gradu- 
ally come  into  existence  forbidding  certain  modes  of 
conduct  and  enjoining  others.  Certain  a^Js  arouse 
in  consciousness  the  moral  sentiments  referred  to 
before,  and  we  have  moral  codes.  Morality  is  there- 
fore developed  as  a  necessary  means  of  realizing  the 

1  Lecky,  History  of  European  Morals,  Vol.  I,  pp.  228  £ 
a/6.,  Vol.  I,  p.  239. 


280  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

highest  good,  or  the  unconditional  desires  of  the 
human  race.  If  the  highest  good  could  be  realized 
without  a  moral  code,  as  we  intimated  before,  there 
would  be  no  moral  laws,  or  any  other  laws,  for  that 
matter.  Laws  are  made  to  hinder  certain  things 
and  to  enforce  others,  and  arise  only  after  the  par- 
ticular actions  have  taken  place.  In  a  certain  sense, 
therefore,  the  lawbreakers  are  the  lawmakers. 

One  thing  I  should  like  to  emphasize  here,  and 
that  is  that  morality  is  a  means  to  an  end ;  that, 
generally  speaking,  the  moral  code  embraces  only 
such  rules  as  make  it  possible  for  human  beings  to 
realize  the  end  or  purpose  or  highest  good.  Moral- 
ity aims  to  remove  all  the  obstacles  in  the  way  of  the 
end.  It  is  not  the  embodiment  of  all  the  aims  and 
strivings  of  the  race.  It  is  not  so  comprehensive  as 
to  guide  the  individual  in  all  his  attempts  to  realize 
the  highest  good.  In  other  words,  not  all  modes  of 
conduct  are  felt  as  obligatory  which  satisfy  the 
desires  of  the  race.  Only  such  acts  will  gather 
around  them  the  moral  sentiments  as  are  commanded 
by  the  race,  and  only  such  will  be  commanded,  in  the 
main,  as  are  absolutely  necessary,  or  are  believed  to 
be  necessary,  to  the  life  of  si  ciety. 

The  moral  code,  then,  does  not  embrace  the  whole 
of  conduct.  Life  and  its  icbals  are  broader  than 
morality.  The  aims  and  ideals  of  humanity  are 
not  exhausted  by  the  aims  of  morality.  Without 
morality  humanity  cannot  reach  its  goal ;  morality 
is  the  conditio  sine  qua  non,  but  the  fulfilment  of  the 


THE  HIGHEST  GOOD  281 

law  alone  will  not  realize  the  aspirations  of  man- 
kind.1 To  illustrate :  The  laws  of  hygiene  must 
be  observed  in  order  that  I  may  reach  my  goal ;  the 
laws  of  hygiene  are  means  to  a  higher  end ;  obedi- 
ence to  them  is  an  essential  condition  of  the  realiza- 
tion of  my  hopes  and  aspirations.  But  it  does  not 
follow  from  this  that  if  I  obey  them  my  aims  will 
be  realized.  My  aims  are  broader  than  the  aims  of 
Jiygiene.  So  my  aims  as  a  human  being  are  broader 
than  my  aims  as  a  moral  being;  they  include  the 
laws  of  morality,  but  are  not  exhausted  by  them. 

Another  point  needs  emphasis.  The  purpose  of 
the  moral  law,  we  may  say,  is  to  make  possible  indi- 
vidual and  social  life.  Moral  acts  tend  to  promote 
individual  and  social  welfare.  Morality  draws  the 
circle,  as  it  were,  within  which  human  beings  may 
safely  pursue  their  ends  without  doing  injury  to 
each  other.  Stealing,  lying,  and  murder  tend  to 
injure  both  the  agent  and  his  environment;  there- 
fore the  command,  Do  not  steal,  lie,  or  murder. 
Honesty,  truthfulness,  and  self-control  tend  to  pro- 
mote the  welfare  of  the  man  who  possesses  these 
virtues  as  well  as  of  his  surroundings ;  therefore, 
be  truthful,  honest,  an**:  moderate. 

If  the  view  advanced  in  the  foregoing  is  correct, 
we  can  draw  certain  Conclusions.  If  morality  is  in 
the  service-  of  the  ideal'-or  highest  good,  then  it  must, 
in  a  measure,  be  dependent  on  this  ideal.  Changes 
in  the  ideals  of  the  rafce  will  lead  to  changes  in  the 

i  See  Miinsterberg,  Ursprung  der  Sittlichkeit,  IV,  pp.  98  ff. 


282  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

moral  code.  Now  we  have  already  noticed  that 
ideals  change  and  grow.  One  age  and  people  is 
more  combative  or  more  peace-loving,  or  more  self- 
ish or  more  sympathetic  than  another,  and  will 
therefore  emphasize  the  virtue  of  courage  or  submis- 
sion or  self-assertion  or  benevolence.  Where  the 
ideal  is  an  ascetic  one,  the  moral  law  will  prohibit 
forms  of  conduct  which  are  not  only  regarded  as 
totally  indifferent,  but  even  essential  in  societies 
aiming,  say,  at  physical  advancement.  The  care 
which  the  ancient  Greek  bestowed  upon  his  body 
seemed  not  only  foolish,  but  sinful,  to  the  mediaeval 
saint.  Where  the  ideal  is  a  political  one,  it  is  re- 
garded as  the  duty  of  the  citizen  to  take  part  in 
politics.  When  the  sphere  of  persons  sympathized 
with  is  a  narrow  one,  as  is  frequently  the  case  at  the 
beginnings  of  historical  life,  the  moral  code  embraces 
only  the  members  of  the  same  tribe  or  nation.  The 
Greeks  regarded  all  foreigners  as  barbarians  and 
enemies,  and  the  Jews  always  looked  upon  them- 
selves as  the  chosen  people  of  God.1 

Now  it  frequently  happens  that  the  moral  code  of 
a  people  does  not  keep  step  with  its  ideals ;  indeed, 
it  may  even  be  an  impediment  to  the  realization  of 
the  highest  good.  In  such  cases  a  conflict  is  apt  to 
ensue  between  the  old  and  the  new.  The  conserva- 


1  Foreigner  and  enemy  originally  meant  the  same  thing ;  think 
of  the  words  £ei/6s  and  hostis.  See  R6e,  Entstehung  des  Gewissens, 
p.  150 ;  Hearn,  Aryan  Household,  p.  19 ;  M'Lennan,  Primitive 
Marriage,  p.  107  ;  and  others  quoted  by  Re"e. 


THE  HIGHEST  GOOD  283 

tive  element  will  cling  to  the  old  rules,  while  the 
younger  generation  will  turn  its  face  to  the  future. 
When  Jesus  Christ  preached  the  doctrine  of  univer- 
sal brotherly  love,  and  changed  the  old  narrow 
Hebrew  conception  of  God  and  His  relation  to  man, 
he  made  a  change  in  morality  absolutely  necessary. 

Even  where  ideals  remain  practically  stable,  con- 
ditions may  change  to  such  an  extent  as  to  make  old 
forms  of  conduct  useless  and  even  harmful,  and  new 
ones  necessary.  But  human  beings  are  creatures  of 
habit,  and  look  with  suspicion  on  the  new.  Conse- 
quently, certain  modes  of  conduct  are  often  con- 
tinued and  enjoined  as  right  long  after  they  have 
lost  their  raison  d'etre.1 

But  there  are  many  modes  of  conduct  which  re- 
main moral  in  spite  of  all  changes  in  ideals,  and  they 
are  those  without  the  observance  of  which  no  earthly 
ideal  can  ever  be  realized.  No  community  can  exist 
and  pursue  ideals,  in  which  falsehood,  murder,  and 
treachery  thrive.  Even  a  band  of  thieves  must  obey 
some  of  the  laws  of  morality  in  order  to  be  able  to 
live  together  at  all.  Only  in  case  the  ideal  were 
death  and  ruin  instead  of  life  and  happiness,  would 
the  commonly  accepted  rules  of  morality  have  to 
give  way  to  others.  A  community  seeking  death 
instead  of  life,  ought  not  to  foster  the  virtues  of 
truth,  honor,  loyalty,  honesty,  justice,  and  chastity, 
for  these  are  the  very  life  of  life.  "  The  wages  of 
sin  is  death." 

1  See  Paulsen's  Ethics,  Introduction. 


284  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

11.  Conclusion.  —  Our  conclusion  is  this :  The 
summum  bonum  or  highest  good  is  that  which 
human  beings  universally  strive  after  for  its  own 
sake,  which  for  them  has  absolute  worth.  It  differs 
for  different  nations  and  times,  depending  upon 
different  inner  and  outer  conditions.  Hence  it  is 
not  possible  to  give  a  detailed  picture  of  the  highest 
good.  All  that  we  can  do  is  to  observe  the  similar- 
ities existing  between  the  different  ideals  of  human- 
ity, and  to  embrace  these  under  a  general  formula  or 
principle.  This  formula  or  principle  is,  of  course, 
bound  to  be  vague  and  indefinite,  a  mere  outline  of 
the  general  direction  of  human  strivings.  We 
defined  it  as  the,'  pmsprvatioiLand  unfolding  ^f  indi- 
vidual  and  social,  physical  and  spiritual  life,  ir^  adap- 
tation to  the  surroundings.  Whatever  rules  are 
developed  by  mankind  for  the  realization  of  the 
highest  good,  and  produce  the  moral  sentiments  re- 
ferred to  before,  are  called  moral  rules.  The  object 
of  these  rules  is  to  make  the  realization  of  the  ideal 
possible.  Morality  is  a  means  to  an  end,  just  as  / 
law  is  a  means  to  an  end.  But  in  the  case  of  moral- 
ity the  rules  must,  generally  speaking,  arouse  certain 
sentiments,  such  as  obligation,  approval,  disapproval, 

c.  Hence  moral  facts  are  characterized  by  the 
effects  which  acts  and  motives  have  upon  the  con- 
sciousness of  the  individuals  as  well  as  upon  their 
general  welfare. 

The  knowledge  we  have  gained  thus  far  will 
enable  us  to  examine  the  different  moral  codes,  and 


THE  HIGHEST  GOOD  285 

to  criticize  them.  We  can  now  judge  of  a  people's 
conduct  in  a  more  rational  way ;  we  can  tell  whether 
the  race  is  realizing  its  purpose,  the  highest  good. 
We  can  also  tell  what  modes  of  conduct  are  neces- 
sary to  the  realization  of  the  ideal,  and  say  that  they 
ought  to  be  pursued.  This  part  of  our  problem 
would  belong  to  practical  ethics. 


CHAPTER  X 

OPTIMISM  VERSUS  PESSIMISM1 

1.  Optimism  and  Pessimism.  —  We  said  that  the 
end  or  aim  of  human  life,  i.e.,  the  highest  good,  was 
the  exercise  of  human  functions.  This  means,  of 
course,  that  human  beings  set  a  value  upon  things, 
that  they  regard  certain  ends  as  having  absolute 
worth  for  them.  They  value  their  lives  and  those 
of  others  ;  they  prize  development  and  progress  for 
its  own  sake.  In  other  words,  they  regard  life 
as  worth  living,  as  good,  as  the  best  thing  for  them 
(optimum).  We  may  call  this  view  optimism. 

This  conception  is  opposed  by  a  set  of  thinkers 
who  declare  that  life  is  not  worth  living,  that  it  is 
not  a  good,  but  an  evil,  not  the  best  thing,  but  the 
worst  thing  (pessimum).  We  may  call  this  theory 
pessimism. 

1  Diihring,  Der  Werth  des  Lebens ;  Hartmann,  Zur  Geschichte 
und  Begrundung  des  Pessimismus;  Sully,  Pessimism,  A  History 
and  Criticism;  Sommer,  Der  Pessimismus  und  die  Sittenlehre; 
Pliimacher,  Der  Pessimismus  in  Vergangenheit  und  Gegenwart; 
Paulsen,  Ethics,  Bk.  II,  chaps,  iii,  iv,  vii;  Wallace,  "Pessimism," 
Encyclopedia  Britannica;  Lubbock,  The  Pleasures  of  Life.  See 
the  bibliography  in  Sully's  Pessimism,  pp.  xvii,  xix.  For  much 
that  is  contained  in  the  following  chapter  I  am  indebted  to  Paul- 
sen's  admirable  chapters  on  "  Pessimism,"  "  The  Evil,  the  Bad  and 
Theodicy,"  and  "Virtue  and  Happiness." 

286   • 


OPTIMISM  VERSUS   PESSIMISM  28T 

Let  us  examine  this  view  somewhat  more  in  detail. 
There  are  two  ways  of  treating  the  subject.  I  may 
say  that  my  life  is  not  worth  living,  that  Jdo  not  care 
for  it,  that  to  me  it  seems  an  evil  rather  than  a  good. 
Here  I  offer  no  proofs  for  my  statements,  but  sim- 
ply express  my  personal  feelings  toward  life,  my 
individual  attitude  toward  it.  This  is  subjective  or 
unscientific  pessimism.  Or  I  may  attempt  to  prove 
scientifically  that  life  in  general  is  not  worth  living, 
that  it  is  unreasonable  or  illogical  for  any  one  to 
care  for  it.  This  is  objective  or  scientific  or  philo- 
sophical pessimism.  We  shall  have  occasion  to 
refer  to  both  forms  in  the  course  of  the  following 
discussion. 

2.  Subjective  Pessimism.  —  Lord  Bacon  gives  us  a 
characteristic  estimate  of  the  value  of  life  in  these 
pessimistic  lines  :  — 

"  The  world's  a  bubble,  and  the  life  of  man 

Less  than  a  span : 
In  his  conception  wretched,  from  the  womb 

So  to  the  tomb ; 
Curst  from  his  cradle,  and  brought  up  to  years 

With  cares  and  fears. 
Who  then  to  frail  mortality  shall  trust, 
But  limns  on  water,  or  but  writes  in  dust." 

Shakespeare's  Hamlet  expresses  himself  in  a  simi- 
lar strain  :  — 

"  How  weary,  stale,  flat,  and  unprofitable 
Seem  to  me  the  uses  of  this  world ; 
Fie  on't,  oh,  fie !     "Tis  an  unweeded  garden 
That  grows  to  seed ;  things  rank  and  gross  in  nature 
Possess  it  merely." 


288  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

And  Keats  in  his  Ode  to  the  Nightingale  draws  an 
equally  mournful  picture  of  the  world  in  which  his 
unhappy  lot  has  been  cast :  — 

"  Fade  far  away,  dissolve,  and  quite  forget 

What  thou  among  the  leaves  hast  never  known, 
The  weariness,  the  fever,  and  the  fret 

Here,  where  men  sit  and  hear  each  other  groan ; 
Where  palsy  shakes  a  few,  sad,  last  gray  hairs, 

Where  youth  grows  pale,  and  spectre-thin,  and  dies ; 
Where  but  to  think  is  to  be  full  of  sorrow 

And  leaden-eyed  despairs ; 
Where  beauty  cannot  keep  her  lustrous  eyes, 

Or  new  love  pine  at  them  beyond  to-morrow." 

These  pessimistic  utterances,  however,  prove  noth- 
ing but  the  temporary  mood  of  the  poet  who  gives 
vent  to  them.  They  are  common  to  every  age  and 
every  clime,  and  are  symptoms  of  the  weariness  and 
disappointment  that  lay  hold  upon  the  race  in  its 
struggle  toward  perfection.  There  is  scarcely  a 
person  living  who  does  not  sometimes  succumb  to 
the  black  demon  of  melancholy,  who  does  not  at 
times  long  "  to  lie  down  like  a  tired  child  and  weep 
away  this  life  of  care."  And  we  may  say  that  he  is 
none  the  worse  for  it.  Pessimistic  br codings  are 
like  the  storm-clouds  that  gather  on  the  horizon, 
and  in  a  healthy  life  pass  away  as  quickly  as  they 
came,  leaving  the  mental  atmosphere  calm  and  pure. 
It  is  only  when  such  moods  become  chronic  and  per- 
manent that  they  prove  dangerous  to  both  the  indi- 
vidual and  the  race,  for  unless  we  regard  life  as  worth 
living  we  shall  not  live  it  as  it  ought  to  be  lived. 


OPTIMISM  VERSUS   PESSIMISM  289 

There  are  persons,  however,  with  whom  pessimism 
is  not  merely  a  passing  feeling,  but  a  philosophic 
creed.  A  man  may,  like  Hamlet  or  Faust,  look  upon 
life  as  burdensome  to  him,  and  express  himself  to 
that  effect.  When  Hamlet  says  that  the  world  seems 
weary,  stale,  flat,  and  unprofitable  to  him,  we  cannot 
refute  him,  because  he  is  simply  telling  how  the 
world  affects  him,  what  feelings  it  arouses  in  him. 
His  feelings  are  facts,  and  as  such  incontrovertible. 
When  you  tell  me  that  you  do  not  value  life,  that 
you  prefer  death  to  life,  and  wish  you  had  never 
been  born,  I  cannot  refute  you  any  more  than  you  can 
refute  me  when  I  say  that  I  love  life  and  am  glad  I 
am  here.  We  are  both  simply  giving  expression  to 
our  feelings,  and  no  one  knows  better  how  we  feel 
than  we  ourselves.  De  gustilus  non  disputandum. 

3.  Scientific  Pessimism. — But  when  you  dogmati- 
cally declare  that  life  is  not  worth  living,  that  there 
is  nothing  in  it  for  anybody,  that  it  has  absolutely 
no  value,  that  instead  of  being  a  blessing  it  is  a 
curse,  you  are  making  general  assertions  which  call 
for  proof.  You  are  advancing  a  theory  of  life  which 
shall  be  valid  for  all,  and  theories  can  be  proved  and 
refuted.  You  will  have  to  show  why  life  is  not 
worth  living ;  you  will  have  to  give  reasons  for  your 
view,  and  reasons  we  can  examine  and  criticise. 
Now,  it  can  be  shown,  I  believe,  that  pessimism  as 
a  philosophic  creed  is  untenable,  and  that  the  opti- 
mistic conception  of  life  is  far  more  rational.1 

1  Philosophical  pessimists :  Schopenhauer,   World  as  Will  and 
u 


290  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

Let  us  see.  The  pessimist  may  argue  that  life 
is  not  worth  living  because  it  does  not  realize  the 
end  or  goal  desired  by  man.  Life  is  worthless  be- 
cause it  fails  to  yield  what  human  beings  most  prize, 
because  it  fails  to  realize  the  summum  bonum  or  the 
highest  good.  Hence,  to  desire  life  is  to  desire  some- 
thing you  really  do  not  want,  —  an  exceedingly 
senseless  procedure. 

But  what  is  the  highest  good  ?  it  may  be  asked;  what 
is  the  goal  at  which  we  are  all  aiming  ?  There  are  as 
many  different  forms  of  pessimism  as  there  are  answers 
to  this  question.  Let  us  consider  some  of  them. 

(a)  The  highest  good  is  knowledge,  one  pessimist 
may  argue ;  life  does  not  realize  it  for  us,  we  do  not 
and  cannot  know  anything ;  hence,  life  is  not  worth 
living.  Let  us  call  this  intellectual  pessimism.  It 
is  preached  by  such  characters  as  Faust:  — 

.  "  I've  studied  now  Philosophy, 
And  Jurisprudence,  Medicine,  — 
And  even,  alas,  Theology,  — 
From  end  to  end,  with  labor  keen; 
And  here,  poor  fool,  with  all  my  lore 
I  stand  no  wiser  than  before."  * 

(5)  The  highest  good  is  pleasure  or  happiness, 
says  another  pessimist.  Now  life  does  not  realize 

Idea,  English  translation  by  Haldane  and  Kemp,  Vol.  I,  Bk.  IV ; 
Vol.  II,  Appendix  to  Bk.  IV ;  Parerga,  chaps,  xi,  xii,  xiv ;  Bahn- 
sen,  Zur  Philosophic  der  Geschichte  ;  Mainlander,  Die  Philosophic 
der  Erlosung ;  Hartmann,  Die  Philosophic  des  Unbewussten, 
translated  by  Coupland.  Consult  Sully's  bibliography  referred  to 
before,  and  read  his  preface  to  the  second  edition. 
1  Bayard  Taylor's  translation  of  Goethe's  Faust. 


OPTIMISM  VERSUS   PESSIMISM  291 

this  end ;  indeed,  it  yields  more  pain  than  pleasure ; 
hence,  life  is  a  failure.  We  find  traces  of  this  view, 
which  we  might  call  emotional  pessimism,  in  the  Old 
Testament,  as,  indeed,  we  are  bound  to  find  them  in 
every  book  that  holds  the  mirror  up  to  the  soul  of 
man.  "  For  what  hath  man  of  all  his  labor,  and  of 
all  the  vexation  of  his  heart,  wherein  he  hath  labored 
under  the  sun.  For  all  his  days  are  sorrows,  and  his 
travail  grief  ;  yea,  his  heart  taketh  not  rest  in  the 
night."  "  The  days  of  our  age  are  threescore  years 
and  ten,  and  though  men  be  so  strong  that  they  come 
to  fourscore  years :  yet  is  their  strength  then  but 
labor  and  sorrow;  so  soon  passeth  it  away,  and  we 
are  gone." 

(c)  No,  says  still  another,  the  highest  good  is  vir- 
tue; life  does  not  realize  virtue,  men  are  wicked,  the 
world  is  thoroughly  bad ;  hence,  life  in  a  world  like 
this  is  not  worth  living.  "  The  race  is  not  to  the 
swift  nor  the  battle  to  the  strong ;  neither  yet  bread 
to  the  wise,  nor  yet  riches  to  men  of  understanding, 
nor  yet  favor  to  men  of  skill."  This  way  of  looking 
at  the  world  let  us  characterize  as  volitional  pessimism. 

4.  Intellectual  Pessimism.  —  All  these  syllogisms 
contain  unproved  premises.  Take  the  first.  Knowl- 
edge is  the  highest  good,  knowledge  is  impossible, 
we  do  not  know  anything  and  we  cannot  know 
anything.  In  the  first  place,  knowledge  is  not  the 
highest  good,  but  a  part  of  the  good,  a  means  to  an 
end.  As  we  said  before,  the  goal  for  which  we  are 
striving  is  a  mixed  life  of  knowledge,  feeling,  and 


292  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

willing.  The  perfect  or  well-rounded  man  is  not 
one  in  whom  the  intellectual  faculties  are  developed 
at  the  expense  of  the  emotional  and  volitional 
elements,  but  one  who  knows,  feels,  and  wills  in  a 
normal  manner.  Besides,  it  cannot  be  said  that  we 
know  nothing  and  can  know  nothing,  nor  can  it  be 
said  that  we  are  growing  more  ignorant  in  the  course 
of  history.  We  may  not  be  able  to  discover  the 
ultimate  essences  of  things,  or  to  solve  all  the  riddles 
of  existence,  but  our  knowledge  is  sufficient  to  guide 
us  in  the  practical  affairs  of  life.  We  are  gaining  a 
deeper  insight  into  the  workings  of  nature,  and  our 
power  over  the  world  is  increasing  in  consequence. 
The  wonderful  progress  that  has  been  made  in  mod- 
ern technics  is  undoubtedly  due  to  our  improved 
knowledge  of  the  laws  of  the  physical  universe, 
and  it  is  safe  to  predict  that  we  shall  make  even 
greater  advances  along  these  lines  in  the  future. 
But  we  have  learned  from  experience  in  all  depart- 
ments of  life,  and  are  doing  our  work  much  better 
than  it  has  been  done  in  the  past,  and  succeeding 
generations  will  most  likely  improve  upon  our 
methods. 

5.  Emotional  Pessimism.  — This  form  of  pessimism 
is  also  open  to  criticism.  Let  us  see.  Pleasure  or 
happiness  is  the  highest  good.  Life  does  not  procure 
it  for  us ;  hence  life  is  not  good.  But  pleasure  is 
not  the  end  of  life,  as  we  have  already  pointed  out ; 
pleasure  or  happiness  is  a  means  to  a  higher  end  and 
a  part  of  that  end.  However,  let  us  waive  this  point, 


OPTIMISM  VERSUS   PESSIMISM  293 

and  examine  the  other  statement,  the  one  that  life 
yields  more  pain  than  pleasure.  There  are  two  pos- 
sible ways  of  arguing  for  the  truth  of  this  assertion. 
We  must  either  show,  by  reference  to  experience, 
that  the  world  is  a  vale  of  tears,  which  would  give 
us  an  inductive  proof ;  or  we  must  prove  on  a^jpriori 
grounds  that  life  cannot  possibly  be  happy,  that 
human  nature  and  the  very  universe  itself  are  so  con- 
stituted as  to  preclude  the  possibility  of  such  a  thing. 
(1)  Now,  I  ask,  can  either  proof  be  furnished? 
Pessimists  are  fond  of  telling  us  that  life  yields  a 
surplus  of  pain,  that  the  balance  is  on  the  pain  side 
of  the  ledger.  But  it  is  impossible  to  make  the 
necessary  calculations  in  this  field.  Take  your  own 
individual  existence.  Can  you  say  that  a  particular 
pain  is  more  painful  than  a  particular  pleasure  is 
pleasurable  ?  Then  can  you  add  up  the  different 
pleasures  and  pains  which  you  have  experienced 
during  a  single  day  or  hour  of  your  life,  and  com- 
pare the  results?  And  can  you,  in  like  manner, 
compute  the  pleasures  and  pains  of  your  entire  life, 
and  say  that  your  pains  exceed  your  pleasures  ? 
And  if  you  cannot  give  a  safe  estimate  of  the  pleas- 
ures and  pains  of  your  own  life,  with  which  you  are 
reasonably  familiar,  how  can  you  make  the  calcula- 
tions for  others,  and  for  the  entire  race,  and  say  that 
they  suffer  more  than  they  enjoy  ?  How  can  you 
say  that  the  amount  of  pleasure  realized  by  one  indi- 
vidual is  counterbalanced  or  exceeded  by  the  pain 
suffered  by  another  ? 


294  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

(2)  The  great  German  pessimist,  Schopenhauer, 
attempts  to  prove  deductively,  from  the  nature  of 
man's  will,  that  life  yields  more  pains  than  pleas- 
ures. Life  consists  of  blind  cravings  which  are  pain- 
ful so  long  as  they  are  not  satisfied.  When  I  desire  a 
thing  and  do  not  get  it,  I  am  miserable  ;  when  I  get 
it  I  am  satisfied  for  a  moment,  and  then  desire  some- 
thing else,  and  am  miserable  again.  I  am  never 
permanently  satisfied  ;  I  am  constantly  yearning  for 
something  I  do  not  possess  ;  there  is  a  worm  in 
every  flower.  "  Every  human  life  oscillates  between 
desire  and  fulfilment.  Wishes  are  by  their  very 
nature  painful ;  their  realization  soon  sates  us  ;  the 
goal  was  but  an  illusion  ;  possession  takes  away  the 
desire,  but  the  wish  reappears  under  a  new  form  ; 
if  not,  emptiness,  hollowness,  ennui,  Langeweile, 
results,  which  is  as  much  of  a  torture  as  want."  a  I 
go  on  hoping  for  better  things  day  in,  day  out,  but 
they  never  come.  One  illusion  merely  gives  way 
to  another.  I  keep  on  longing  and  longing  until 
the  angel  of  death  takes  pity  on  me  and  folds  me 
under  his  wing.  Each  particular  day  brings  me 
nearer  to  the  grave,  the  awful  end  of  it  all.  Touch- 
stone is  right  when  he  soliloquizes  :  — 

"  It  is  ten  o'clock. 

Thus  may  we  see,  quoth  he,  how  the  world  wags : 
'Tis  but  an  hour  ago  since  it  was  nine ; 
And  after  an  hour  more  'twill  be  eleven ; 

1  Schopenhauer's  Works,  Frauenstadt's  edition,  The  World  as 
Will  and  Idea,  Vol.  I,  p.  370. 


OPTIMISM  VERSUS  PESSIMISM  295 

And  so  from  hour  to  hour  we  ripe  and  ripe ; 
And  then  from  hour  to  hour  we  rot  and  rot ; 
And  thereby  hangs  a  tale !  " 

We  are  like  shipwrecked  mariners  who  struggle 
and  struggle  to  save  their  wearied  bodies  from  the 
terrible  waves,  only  to  be  engulfed  in  them  at  last.1 
"  The  life  of  most  men,"  says  Schopenhauer,  "  is  but 
a  continuous  struggle  for  existence,  —  a  struggle 
which  they  are  bound  to  lose  at  last.2 "  "  Every 
breath  we  draw  is  a  protest  against  the  Death  which 
is  constantly  threatening  us,  and  against  which  we 
are  fighting  every  second.  But  Death  must  conquer 
after  all,  for  we  are  his  by  birth,  and  he  simply  plays 
with  his  prey  a  little  while  before  devouring  it.  We, 
however,  take  great  pains  to  prolong  our  lives  as  far 
as  we  can,  just  as  we  blow  soap-bubbles  as  long  and 
as  large  as  possible,  though  we  know  with  absolute 
certainty  that  they  must  break  at  last."3  In  an 
old  poem  by  William  Drummond  a  similar  thought 
is  expressed  :  — 

u  This  life  which  seems  so  fair, 
Is  like  a  bubble  blown  up  in  the  air 
By  sporting  children's  breath, 
Who  chase  it  everywhere 
And  strive  who  can  most  motion  it  bequeath. 
And  though  it  sometimes  seem  of  its  own  might 
Like  to  an  eye  of  gold  to  be  fixed  there, 
And  firm  to  hover  in  that  empty  height, 
That  only  is  because  it  is  so  light. 

1  The  World  as  Will  and  Idea,  Vol.  I,  p.  369. 
3  76. ,  p.  368.  3  /&.,  p.  367. 


296  INTRODUCTION'  TO  ETHICS 

-  But  in  that  pomp  it  doth  not  long  appear ; 
For  when  'tis  most  admired,  in  a  thought, 
Because  it  erst  was  nought,  it  turns  to  nought." 

Another  proof  of  the  futility  of  life  is  this  :  Hap- 
piness is  a  purely  negative  quantity.  It  can  never 
be  realized  except  by  the  satisfaction  of  a  desire. 
With  the  satisfaction  of  the  desire,  however,  the 
desire  itself,  and  with  it  the  pleasure,  ceases.  Hence 
the  satisfaction  of  desire  or  happiness  can  mean 
nothing  but  liberation  from  pain  or  want.1  To 
quote  Schopenhauer  again :  "  We  feel  pain,  but 
not  painlessness  ;  we  feel  care,  but  not  freedom  from 
care ;  fear,  but  not  security.  We  feel  the  wish  as 
we  feel  hunger  and  thirst ;  but  as  soon  as  it  is  ful- 
filled, it  is  much  the  same  as  with  the  agreeable 
morsel,  which,  the  very  moment  it  is  swallowed, 
ceases  to  exist  for  our  sensibility.  We  miss  pain- 
fully our  pleasures  and  joys  as  soon  as  they  fail  us ; 
but  pains  are  not  immediately  missed  even  when 
they  leave  us,  after  tarrying  long  with  us,  but  at 
most  we  remember  them  voluntarily  by  means  of 
reflection.  For  only  pain  and  want  can  be  felt 
positively,  and  so  announce  themselves  as  something 
really  present ;  happiness,  on  the  contrary,  is  simply 
negative.  Accordingly,  we  do  not  appreciate  the 
three  greatest  goods  of  life,  health,  youth,  and  free- 
dom, as  long  as  we  possess  them,  but  only  after  we 
have  lost  them  ;  for  these  also  are  negations.  That 
certain  days  of  our  life  were  happy  ones,  we  recog- 

i  The  World  as  Will  and  Idea,  Vol.  I,  p.  376. 


OPTIMISM  VERSUS  PESSIMISM  297 

nize  first  of  all,  after  they  have  made  room  for  unhappy 
ones." 1  Voltaire  expresses  the  same  thought :  "  Hap- 
piness is  but  a  dream,  while  sorrow  is  a  reality.  I 
have  been  experiencing  this  truth  for  fourscore 
years.  There  is  nothing  left  for  me  but  to  resign 
myself  to  Fate,  and  to  acknowledge  that  the  flies 
are  born  to  be  eaten  up  by  the  spiders,  and  men  to 
be  consumed  by  sorrows."2 

Now  I  ask  you,  Is  not  all  this  gross  exaggeration? 
Is  not  the  picture  which  the  pessimist  draws  a  cari- 
cature rather  than  a  faithful  representation  of  life? 
Is  not  Schopenhauer's  description  of  the  human  will 
that  of  a  spoilt  child  rather  than  that  of  a  healthy 
man?  Of  course,  life  is  not  free  from  disappoint- 
ment. True,  we  desire  and  keep  on  desiring,  we 
hope  and  hope,  often  even  against  hope,  and  our 
hopes  extend  beyond  the  grave.  But  it  is  not  so 
painful  a  thing  to  have  desires  and  hopes,  —  nay, 
what  would  a  life  be  worth  without  desires  and 
hopes  and  strivings  and  expectations?  And  what 
would  it  be  without  struggle  and  an  occasional 
disappointment  ? 

Life  is  movement,  action,  development ;  hence  there 
can  be  no  fixed  or  stable  goal,  a  cessation  of  desire 
and  striving.  We  cannot  imagine  that  we  shall  ever 
reach  a  point  of  rest,  a  stopping-place,  and  that  we 
could  ever  be  happy  in  the  passive  enjoyment  of  such 
a  state  of  absolute  rest.  If  life  were  differently  con- 

1  This  translation  is  taken  from  Sally's  Pessimism. 

2  See  Schopenhauer,  The  World  as  Will  and  Idea,  Vol.  II,  pp.  659  f. 


298  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

stituted,  it  would  be  death  and  not  life.  Nur  der 
verdient  die  Freiheit  und  das  Leben,  der  taglich  sie 
erobern  muss. 

The  main  trouble  with  the  pessimist  is  that  he 
regards  a  permanent,  stable  state  of  happiness  as  the 
highest  good,  and  that  he  judges  life  in  the  light  of 
a  means  of  achieving  this  good.  Life,  however,  is 
not  a  means  to  an  end,  but  an  end  in  itself,  some- 
thing desired  and  prized  for  its  own  sake.  It  is  not 
like  a  railroad  journey,  a  means  of  reaching  a  certain 
given  destination,  but  rather  like  a  ramble  through 
a  beautiful  forest,  something  that  is  enjoyed  for  its 
own  sake.  We  enjoy  the  muscular  activity,  the 
shady  paths,  the  rippling  brooks,  the  song  of  the 
birds,  the  chirp  of  the  insects,  the  beauty  and  fra- 
grance of  the  flowers,  the  warm  sunshine  and  the 
cooling  shade,  the  blue  sky  overhead  and  the  mossy 
banks  underfoot.  There  may  be  hills  to  climb,  and 
the  exercise  may  be  hard  and  fatiguing;  we  may 
pass  through  brier  and  thorn,  and  tear  the  flesh; 
our  lips  may  be  parched  with  thirst,  and  we  may  feel 
the  pangs  of  hunger.  And  we  may  suffer  many 
little  disappointments  on  the  way,  and  become  the 
victims  of  illusion,  but  the  walk,  taken  as  a  whole, 
cannot  be  called  a  disappointment  and  illusion.  So 
it  is  with  life.  Life  has  its  lights  and  shadows,  its 
joys  and  its  sorrows,  its  victories  and  defeats. 

"  Be  still,  sad  heart !  and  cease  repining ; 
Behind  the  clouds  is  the  sun  still  shining; 
Thy  fate  is  the  common  fate  of  all, 


OPTIMISM  VERSUS   PESSIMISM  299 

Into  each  life  some  rain  must  fall, 
Some  days  must  be  dark  and  dreary." 

Sunshine  and  rain  are  both  essential  to  growth. 
Pain  is  a  chastener,  and  often  more  valuable  as 
a  developer  of  character  than  pleasure.  AucJi  der 
Schmerz  ist  Crottes  Bote.  No  strong  character  can  be 
formed  except  in  the  school  of  sorrow  and  defeat. 
Not  until  you  have  received  some  sharp  blows  from 
the  world,  not  until  the  iron  has  entered  into  your 
soul,  will  you  become  an  able  warrior  in  the  ranks  of 
life.  "  Sweet  are  the  uses  of  adversity." 

And  as  for  the  negativity  of  happiness,  the  doc- 
trine is  psychologically  false.  Pleasure  is  just  as 
real  and  just  as  positive  as  pain,  —  indeed,  even  the 
absence  of  pain  is  felt  as  positively  pleasurable. 

(3)  The  pessimist  also  attempts  to  prove  geneti- 
cally that  the  pains  exceed  the  pleasures  of  life 
by  referring  to  the  nature  and  development 
of  knowledge.1  He  believes  with  the  preacher 
that  "  in  much  wisdom  is  much  grief :  and  he  that 
increaseth  knowledge  increaseth  sorrow."  The  more 
we  know  the  unhappier  we  become.  Civilization 
means  a  multiplication  of  needs  or  desires,  new  needs 
mean  new  pains  and  new  disappointments.  More- 
over, the  intelligent  being  "  looks  before  and  after, 
and  pines  for  what  is  not."  The  brute  lives  in  the 
present  alone,  regardless  of  the  past  and  future,  suf- 
fering neither  remorse  nor  fear  of  death.  Its  igno- 
rance is  its  bliss.  Man,  on  the  other  hand,  reviews  the 

1  Schopenhauer,  The  World  as  Will  and  Idea,  Vol.  I,  365  f. 


300  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

past,  and  suffers  over  again  the  pains  that  once  tor- 
tured him ;  he  looks  into  the  future,  and  foresees  the 
evils  awaiting  him  there.  The  fear  of  the  coming 
pain  is  often  more  painful  than  the  actual  pain  itself, 
and  the  horror  of  death  is  the  worst  pain  of  all. 
Again,  man  has  an  ideal  self  besides  a  physical  self, 
a  social  me,  as  Professor  William  James  calls  it,  his 
honor  or  reputation,  the  picture  of  himself  in  the 
hearts  of  others.  The  more  complex  society  becomes, 
the  greater  our  dependence  upon  our  fellows  and 
the  greater  the  possibility  of  injuring  the  ideal  self. 
Think  of  the  pains  of  unsatisfied  ambition,  injured 
pride,  unrequited  love,  etc.,  as  compared  with  bodily 
hurts.  And  finally,  as  intelligence  increases,  our 
sympathies  enlarge,  and  then  we  suffer  not  only  our 
own  sorrows,  but  those  of  others.  We  die  a  thou- 
sand deaths.1 

There  is  undoubtedly  a  great  deal  of  truth  in 
these  reflections,  but  they  are,  like  the  entire  pessi- 
mistic philosophy,  one-sided.  It  is  true  that  as  life 
unfolds,  the  possibilities  for  suffering  pain  increase. 
The  surface  of  sensitivity  to  pain  becomes  larger,  as 
it  were.  But  look  at  the  other  side  of  the  picture. 
The  pleasures  also  grow  in  extent  and  intent.  Civil- 
ization creates  new  needs,  very  true ;  but  it  also 
creates  new  means  of  satisfying  them.  New  needs 
mean  new  activities,  new  activities  mean  new 
pleasures.  It  is  likewise  true  that  we  anticipate 
future  sorrows,  but  do  we  not  also  look  forward  to 
1  See,  especially,  Parerga,  chap,  xii,  §§  154  ff. 


OPTIMISM  VERSUS   PESSIMISM  301 

future  pleasures,  and  do  we  not  enjoy  them  in 
advance  ?  Is  not  the  feeling  of  hope  a  joyful  feel- 
ing ;  is  it  not  a  blessing  instead  of  a  curse  ?  Human 
beings  also  fear  the  future,  but  can  we  say  that  they 
hope  less  than  they  fear?  Is  it  not  the  tendency 
of  men  to  paint  the  future  in  rosy  colors,  and  always 
to  be  expecting  better  things?  It  seems  so  to  me. 

"  Hope  springs  eternal  in  the  human  breast." 
"  Am  Grabe  noch  pflanzt  er  die  Hoffnung  auf" 

And  when  it  comes  to  looking  backward,  do  we  not 
forget  the  troubles  we  have  passed  through  and 
linger  upon  the  happy  hours  we  have  spent  ?  Our 
griefs  lose  their  sting  in  retrospect ;  time  heals  all 
wounds.  We  come  to  view  our  sorrows  and  dis- 
appointments as  blessings  in  disguise,  as  stepping- 
stones  to  higher  things.  The  same  remarks  apply 
to  our  ideal  selves.  We  grieve  when  we  are  for- 
gotten or  not  thought  well  of,  when  we  are  despised 
and  hated  ;  but  we  likewise  rejoice  when  we  are 
loved  and  admired  and  applauded.  And  though 
we  suffer  the  sorrows  of  others,  we  also  enjoy  their 
pleasures.  Besides,  it  is  sweet  to  be  sympathized 
with  by  others ;  nothing  affords  us  greater  consola- 
tion in  our  grief  than  to  gaze  into  the  tearful  eyes 
of  friendship ;  and  nothing  fills  our  hearts  with 
deeper  joy  than  to  share  our  good  fortune  with  those 
we  love. 

The  long  and  short  of  it  is  that,  if  the  growth 
of  intelligence   does  increase   our   sorrows,  it   also 


302  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

increases  our  joys.  In  what  proportion?  The 
optimist  claims  that  there  is  a  balance  in  favor  of 
pleasure  or  happiness,  while  the  pessimist  declares 
that  the  pain  exceeds  the  pleasure.  We  cannot 
prove  either  side  statistically,  but  I  believe  with 
healthy  common  sense  that  optimism  is  in  the  right. 
If  the  biological  view  is  true,  which  holds  that  pleas- 
urable feelings  go  with  beneficial  activity,  and  pain- 
ful feelings  with  harmful  action,  we  may  claim  that 
a  healthy  life,  one  adapted  to  its  surroundings, 
yields  more  pleasure  than  pain,  and  that  inasmuch 
as  the  normal  healthy  beings  outnumber  the  abnor- 
mal ones,  there  is  more  happiness  than  sorrow  in 
the  world.  We  may  also  point  out  the  fact  that 
if  pleasure  is  linked  with  beneficial  activity,  and 
pain  with  harmful  action,  then  the  animals  feeling 
pleasure  will  be  preserved,  while  the  others  will 
perish.  The  fact  that  a  man  is  alive  at  all  would, 
in  a  measure,  indicate  that  he  was  happy,  for  if  he 
did  not  get  more  pleasure  out  of  life  than  pain,  the 
chances  are  that  he  would  be  eliminated.  The  world 
belongs  to  those  who  can  adapt  themselves  to  it  and 
enjoy  it. 

And  even  if  it  could  be  shown  that  pain  is  in 
excess  of  pleasure,  this  would  not  justify  absolute 
pessimism.  Perhaps  this  world  is  a  vale  of  tears ; 
but  is  it  necessarily  so?  Perhaps  it  is  full  of  sorrow 
and  disappointment ;  but  may  that  not  be  due  to 
conditions  which  may  be  changed?  If  the  pessimist 
would  only  spend  the  time  and  energy  which  he 


OPTIMISM  VERSUS   PESSIMISM  303 

wastes  in  complaining  and  weeping,  in  ameliorating 
the  conditions  of  the  unfortunate,  he  would  most 
likely  soon  be  converted  into  an  optimist. 

6.  Volitional  Pessimism.  —  Let  us  now  turn  to 
that  form  of  pessimism  which  regards  the  whole 
world  as  morally  bad,  and  therefore  longs  to  be 
delivered  from  it.  Men  are  knaves,  or  fools,  or 
both.  The  end  and  aim  of  the  average  man's  exist- 
ence is  to  keep  himself  alive,  and  he  will  do  any- 
thing to  realize  this  purpose.  He  is  a  cruel,  unjust, 
and  cowardly  egoist,  whom  vanity  makes  sociable, 
fear  honest.  And  the  only  way  to  succeed  in  this 
world  is  to  be  tricky  and  dishonest  like  the  rest. 
Shakespeare  gives  poetical  expression  to  this  moral- 
istic pessimism,  as  Paulsen  calls  it,  in  one  of  his  best 
sonnets  :  — 

"Tired  with  all  these,  for  restful  death  I  cry  — 
As,  to  behold  desert  a  beggar  born, 
And  needy  nothing  trimm'd  in  jollity, 
And  purest  faith  unhappily  forsworn, 
And  gilded  honor  shamefully  misplaced, 
And  maiden  virtue  rudely  strumpeted, 
And  right  perfection  wrongfully  disgraced, 
And  strength  by  limping  sway  disabled, 
And  art  made  tongue-tied  by  authority, 
And  folly,  doctor-like,  controlling  skill, 
And  simple  truth  miscalled  simplicity, 
And  captive  Good  attending  Captain  HI." 

And  the  broken-hearted  King  Lear  thus  moralizes 
upon  the  injustice  of  the  world  :  — 

"  Through  tattered  clothes  small  vices  do  appear, 
Robes  and  furred  gowns  hide  all.     Plate  sin  with  gold, 


304  INTRODUCTION'  TO  ETHICS 

And  the  strong  lance  of  justice  hurtless  breaks; 
Arm  it  in  rags,  the  pigmy's  sword  doth  pierce  it." 

The  good  are  not  appreciated,  —  indeed,  they  are 
persecuted  by  the  malicious,  envious  common  herd, 
who  hate  virtue  because  it  makes  their  insignificance 
and  meanness  all  the  more  contemptible. 

Now  is  the  world  really  as  black  as  all  that? 
There  is  undoubtedly  much  truth  in  what  the 
accusers  of  mankind  say ;  but  is  humanity  so  abso- 
lutely rotten  as  they  rhetorically  declaim?  How 
can  it  be  proved?  Either  inductively,  that  is,  by 
appealing  to  the  facts  ;  or  deductively,  by  showing 
that  man  is  bound  to  be  bad  by  the  very  nature  of 
things. 

(1)  Are  there  more  bad  men  in  the  world  than 
good  ones  ?  Before  we  can  undertake  to  answer  this 
question,  we  must  have  some  criterion  by  which  to 
measure  the  moral  value  of  men  and  times.  How 
must  they  act  in  order  to  be  called  good?  What 
standard  shall  we  apply  to  them.  Much  depends 
upon  the  answer  given  to  this  question.  If  you 
regard  as  the  standard  of  morality  perfect  knowl- 
edge, or  perfect  holiness,  or  perfect  anything,  the 
verdict  must  turn  out  against  the  human  race.  If 
you  demand  an  absolute  suppression  of  egoistic  feel- 
ings, the  verdict  will  be  unfavorable.  If  you 
demand  that  man  absolutely  negate  his  will,  that  he 
seek  only  the  pleasures  arising  from  artistic  or  reli- 
gious or  scientific  contemplation,  or  that  he  think  of 
nothing  but  heaven  all  the  time,  that  he  live  in  rags 


OPTIMISM  VERSUS   PESSIMISM  305 

in  order  that  others  may  be  clad  in  purple,  then,  of 
course,  this  world  will  seem  mean  and  wretched 
to  you.  But  if  you  measure  humanity  by  a  more 
human  standard,  by  an  ideal  to  which  the  race  can 
aspire,  the  case  is  not  so  hopeless.  Let  us  call  such 
acts  good  as  tend  to  make  for  physical  and  spiritual, 
individual  and  social,  upliftment ;  let  us  call  those 
men  good  who  aim  to  realize  this  ideal,  who  care  for 
themselves  and  others,  who  are  struggling  for  their 
own  and  others'  advancement.  Now  if  this  be  our 
measuring-rod,  is  humankind  so  dreadfully  wicked? 
Are  men  as  grossly  egoistic  as  the  pessimist  would 
have  us  believe  ?  Are  they  as  cruel,  vindictive,  dis- 
honest, unjust,  treacherous,  false,  envious,  malicious, 
as  their  accuser  paints  them? 

Well,  here  again,  we  must  say  we  have  not  counted 
the  good  and  the  bad  ;  we  have  no  statistics  on  the 
point.  It  is  true,  there  are  evil-minded  and  evil- 
doing  persons  in  the  world,  and  we  cannot  shut  our 
eyes  to  the  fact  that  we  are  far  from  being  perfect. 
There  are  many  wrongs  to  which  we  may  point.  It 
is  true,  there  is  much  corruption  in  politics.  The 
people  are  often  led  around  by  the  noses  by  adroit 
rascals  who  are  seeking  their  own  personal  gain  at 
the  expense  of  the  community  and  in  the  name  of 
patriotism,  that  much-abused  word.  Parties  are  too 
frequently  willing  to  damage  the  country  which  they 
are  pretending  to  serve,  merely  for  the  sake  of  injur- 
ing the  opposing  party,  which  is  supposed  to  bear 
the  entire  responsibility.  The  influential  boss  can 


306  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

often  control  legislation,  as  can  the  millionaire  and 
the  rich  corporation.  "  Plate  sin  with  gold,  and  the 
strong  lance  of  justice  hurtless  breaks."  And  good 
men  meet  with  defeat  in  the  struggle  for  existence,  or, 
at  any  rate,  are  regarded  by  the  world  as  failures,  as 
unpractical  dreamers,  whom  nobody  minds,  while 
incense  is  burned  at  the  altars  of  unscrupulous  vil- 
lains, charlatans,  and  fools  whose  purses  are  as  fat 
as  their  hearts  are  empty. 

But  is  that  the  whole  story  ?  Are  there  not  many 
good  men  in  the  world?  Are  there  not  many  who 
are  fighting  on  the  side  of  truth  and  justice,  many 
who  are  willing  to  sacrifice  themselves  for  their  fel- 
lows? Is  it  really  true  that  dishonesty  and  trickery 
are  the  conditions  of  success,  that  a  man  cannot 
thrive  unless  he  be  a  knave  ?  It  seems,  the  very  fact 
that  we  pay  so  much  attention  to  the  successful  ras- 
cals shows  that  we  are  surprised  at  their  success,  that 
it  is  unusual  for  thieves  and  liars  to  win  the  battle 
of  life.  If  it  were  the  rule  the  world  over  for  false- 
hood and  sham  to  lead  to  health  and  wealth,  should 
we  be  so  shocked  and  chagrined  thereby?  The 
moral  heroes  and  the  moral  villains  stand  out  in 
bold  relief  as  the  observed  of  all  observers,  while  the 
great  mass  of  men  who  are  neither  angels  nor  devils 
pass  by  unnoticed. 

(2)  Nor  can  we  prove  that  the  world  and  its  inhab- 
itants must  of  necessity  be  bad.  Is  man  an  original 
sinner?  Is  sin  hereditary  with  him,  as  Saint.,  Augus- 
tiae^and  Schopenhauer  and  many  others  would  hold? 


OPTIMISM  VERSUS   PESSIMISM  307 

According  to  Schopenhauer  man  is  a  crass  egoist  by 
nature,  and  egoism  is  bad,  hence  no  good  can  come 
out  of  him.  But  man  is  not  a  crass  egoist.  Scho- 
penhauer himself  believes  that  we  can  free  ourselves 
from  our  wicked  wills,  that  we  can  negate  the  will, 
suppress  our  egoistic  strivings,  and  lose  ourselves  in 
the  contemplation  of  the  objects  of  art,  science,  and 
Teligion ;  hence  we  cannot  be  so  bad  after  all.  And 
those  who  believe  in  the  total  depravity  of  man  are 
likewise  optimistic  enough  to  believe  that  there  is 
some  way  out  of  the  difficulty,  either  through  Christ 
or  the  groundless  grace  of  God,  so  unwilling  are 
they  to  concede  the  necessary  loss  of  a  single  human 
soul. 

It  is  much  easier  to  show  on  a  priori  grounds  that 
man  is  not  radically  bad  than  the  opposite.  Man  is 
both  egoistic  and  altruistic ;  he  acts  for  his  own 
good  and  that  of  others.  Humanity  could  not  exist 
and  realize  the  ideals  which  have  been  realized  if 

% 

men  were  absolutely  bad.  The  fact  of  their  living 
together  at  all  proves  that  obedience  to  the  laws  of 
morality  is  the  rule  and  not  the  exception.  If  men 
were  as  immoral  as  the  pessimist  paints  them,  society 
would  go  to  pieces.  The  fact  that  it  takes  unusually 
adroit  men  to  succeed  in  spite  of  their  dishonesty 
shows  how  hard  it  is  to  break  the  moral  law  and 
thrive.  "The  wages  of  sin  is  death."  This  is  as 
profound  a  truth  as  was  ever  uttered. 

But  even  if  it  were  true,  even  if  the  world  were  a 
hotbed  of  corruption,  why  should  we  despair  ?  Why 


308  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

should  we  not  make  ourselves  and  the  world  better  ? 
Let  us  strive  to  improve  it,  and  not  sit  idly  by,  weep- 
ing and  moaning  over  its  wickedness.  Let  us  strike 
at  wrong  wherever  it  shows  its  head,  let  us  enroll 
ourselves  in  the  ranks  of  virtue  and  fight  the  great 
battle  of  the  right  against  the  wrong.  The  best  way 
to  grow  strong  in  righteousness  is  to  combat  evil. 
And  we  can  make  no  better  beginning  than  by  first 
improving  ourselves.  "  Thou  hypocrite,  cast  out  first 
the  beam  out  of  thine  own  eye,  and  then  shalt  thou 
see  clearly  to  pull  out  the  mote  that  is  in  thy  brother's 
eye." 

(3)  The  attempt  is  also  made  to  prove  pessimism 
genetically  by  comparing  the  present  with  the  past. 
Just  as  sorrow  is  increasing,  vice  is  increasing ;  men 
are  growing  worse  and  worse ;  the  times  are  out  of 
joint.  The  world  is  degenerating.  There  was  a 
time,  says  Rousseau,  when  things  were  better.  In 
his  primitive  days,  man  lived  peacefully,  virtuously, 
and  happily,  but  with  the  progress  of  civilisation 
and  culture  all  this  has  been  changed.  We  are* 
growing  away  from  the  sweet  simplicity  of  the  past, 
and  our  demands  on  life  and  the  values  we  put  upon 
things  are  changing.  Social  inequalities  are  multi- 
plying, carrying  in  their  train  all  the  vices  of  an 
artificial  mode  of  existence.  We  esteem  knowledge, 
not  for  itself,  but  simply  as  we  value  diamonds  and 
precious  jewels,  because  it  gives  to  its  possessors 
something  not  enjoyed  by  others.  Wealth  and  cul- 
ture are  the  badges  of  classes,  and  valued  merely  as 


OPTIMISM  VERSUS   PESSIMISM  309 

such.  The  rich  and  cultured  are  becoming  more 
lordly,  haughty,  supercilious,  and  unsympathetic, 
while  the  poor  and  ignorant  are  made  more  servile, 
cowardly,  deceitful,  and  base  by  the  artificial  condi- 
tions of  the  times. 

It  is,  however,  not  true  that  the  world  is  getting 
worse,  that  the  original  state  was  a  blissful  moral 
state.  This  conception  of  a  better  past  is  common 
to  many  religions  and  peoples.  The  Greeks  believed 
in  a  golden  age,  the  Jews  in  Paradise.  It  is  charac- 
teristic of  old  age  to  live  in  and  glorify  the  past, 
largely  perhaps  because  it  is  past.  The  evils  of  the 
present  are  distinctly  before  us ;  the  evils  of  the  past 
we  are  apt  to  forget,  and  to  think  only  of  its  bright 
sides.  Besides,  old  age  has  formed  its  habits,  the 
habits  of  the  past,  and  we  all  know  how  hard  it  is  to 
accept  new  ways  of  thinking,  feeling,  and  willing. 
You  can't  teach  an  old  dog  new  tricks,  as  the  saying 
is.  The  old  man  often  feels  out  of  place  in  the  world 
with  its  new  habits,  and  so  comes  to  regard  everything 
in  it  as  wrong.  He  makes  the  same  objections  to 
the  present  which  his  parents  made  to  his  past, 
which  was  their  present. 

But  is  the  present  really  worse  than  the  past? 
Here  again  everything  depends  upon  our  conception 
of  the  better  and  the  worse.  If  you  do  not  believe 
in  the  progress  of  political  and  religious  freedom,  you 
will  condemn  the  present.  If  you  hate  the  rabble 
so  called,  and  find  that  the  plain  man  of  the  people 
is  playing  a  greater  role  in  the  world  than  you  are 


310  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

willing  he  should  play,  you  will  find  fault  with  the 
times.  If  you  regard  civilization  with  its  culture 
and  luxury  as  an  absolute  evil,  you  will  hate  the 
present.  If  you  believe  that  men  ought  to  live  the 
lives  of  mediaeval  ascetics,  that  they  should  despise 
literature,  science,  and  art,  then  you  cannot  contem- 
plate our  age  with  pleasure. 

But  if  you  believe  with  me  that  the  ideal  of  man- 
kind is  to  develop  the  physical  and  spiritual  powers 
of  the  race  in  harmony  with  each  other  and  in  adap- 
tation to  the  surroundings,  to  make  men  more  rational 
and  sympathetic,  to  give  them  control  over  them- 
selves and  nature,  to  bring  the  blessings  of  civilization 
within  the  reach  of  the  humblest  and  most  neglected, 
then  you  will  have  to  admit  that  our  times  are  better 
than  the  past.  If  civilization  is  better  than  sav- 
agery, then  the  present  is  better  than  the  past.  If  a 
wider  and  deeper  sympathy  with  living  beings,  jus- 
tice, and  truth,  are  better  than  hatred,  cruelty,  preju- 
dice, and  injustice,  then  civilization  is  better  than 
savagery.  The  good  old  times  solved  their  problems 
in  their  way;  let  us  solve  ours  in  our  way.  Let  us 
be  thankful  that  the  past  is  gone,  and  look  with  hope 
to  a  brighter  and  better  future.1 

1  See  the  excellent  chapter  on  "The  Moral  Progress  of  the 
Race,"  in  Williams,  Review  of  Evolutional  Ethics,  pp.  466  ff. 


CHAPTER  XI 

CHARACTER  AND  FREEDOM  1 

1.  Virtues  and  Vices.  —  We  have  found  that  such 
acts  are  right  as  tend  to  promote  welfare,  and  that 
such  are  wrong  as  tend  to  do  the  reverse.  We  have 
also  found  that  acts  are  the  outward  expressions  of 
inner  psychical  states,  that  they  are  prompted  by 
something  on  the  inner  side.  Among  these  inner 
states  we  mentioned  the  so-called  egoistic  and  altru- 
istic impulses  and  feelings,  and  the  so-called  moral 
sentiments.  Morality,  therefore,  or  moral  conduct, 
springs  from  the  human  heart;  it  represents  the 
will  of  humanity.  Moral  conduct,  like  all  conduct, 
is  the  outward  expression  of  the  human  will.  Men 
act  morally  or  for  the  welfare  of  themselves  and 
others  because  they  desire  or  will  that  welfare. 

1  Green,  Prolegomena,  Bk.  I,  chap,  iii,  Bk.  II,  chap,  i ;  Stephen, 
The  Science  of  Ethics,  pp.  264-294 ;  Miinsterberg,  Die  Willens- 
handlung ;  Fouille'e,  La  liberte  et  determinisme  ;  Sigwart,  Der 
Begriff  des  Wollens  und  sein  Verhaltniss  zum  Begriff  der  Cau- 
salitat;  Wundt,  Ethics,  Part  III,  chap,  i,  1,  2,  3 ;  Paulsen,  Ethics. 
Bk.  II,  chap,  ix  ;  Thilly,  "  The  Freedom  of  the  Will,"  Philosophical 
Review,  Vol.  Ill,  pp.  385-411 ;  Hyslop,  Elements,  chaps,  iv,  v ; 
Mackenzie,  Manual,  chap,  viii ;  Seth,  Ethical  Principles,  Part  III, 
chap.  i.  For  history  of  the  freewill  question,  see  Penzig,  Arthur 
Schopenhauer  und  die  menschliche  Willensfreiheit ;  A.  Alexander, 
Theories  of  the  Will 

311 


312  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

Humanity  as  a  whole  desires  its  own  preservation 
and  advancement,  and  therefore  performs  acts  which 
tend  to  realize  the  desired  end. 

We  call  such  acts  as  tend  to  promote  welfare  vir- 
tuous, their  opposites  vicious.  We  call  the  will  that 
tends  to  express  itself  in  virtuous  acts  a  good  or  virtu- 
ous will,  its  opposite  vicious.  Acts  which  ought  to 
be  done  we  call  duties,  persons  who  do  them  dutiful. 

Morality  is  based  upon  impulses.  Because  men 
desire  the  preservation  of  themselves  and  others 
they  are  moral.  But  —  and  this  is  an  important 
point  —  an  impulse  as  such  is  not  necessarily  a  vir- 
tue, though  it  may  be  fashioned  into  one.  The  im- 
pulse to  preserve  your  life  is  not  necessarily  a  virtue. 
Your  desire  to  preserve  yourself  may  be  so  irra- 
tional as  to  destroy  you.  Your  desire  for  food  may 
be  so  strong  as  to  cause  your  ruin.  Nor  is  the  sym- 
pathetic impulse  necessarily  a  virtue.  Your  sympa- 
thy for  a  person  may  be  so  irrational  as  to  injure 
both  you  and  the  person  for  whom  you  feel  it. 

Virtues  are  rational  impulses,  i.e.,  impulses  or 
volitions  fashioned  in  such  a  manner  as  to  realize 
moral  ends.  They  are  impulses  guided  by  reason, 
controlled  by  ideas.  Impulses  are  formed  or  fash- 
ioned or  educated  by  experience  with  natural  and 
social  surroundings.  Exaggerated  impulses  are  cor- 
rected and  weak  ones  strengthened.  Impulses  may 
also  be  reenforced  or  defeated  by  the  aid  of  the  moral 
sentiments  or  the  conscience.  An  extreme  egoistic 
impulse  may  be  held  in  check  by  the  feeling  of  obli- 


CHARACTER  AND  FREEDOM  313 

gation ;  and  a  weak  altruistic  impulse  intensified  in 
the  same  way.  A  person  who  is  exceedingly  selfish 
may  be  kept  within  proper  bounds  by  his  conscience, 
by  the  feeling  that  he  ought  not  to  indulge  his 
desire  to  advance  himself  at  the  expense  of  others ; 
while  an  individual  lacking  altruism  may  be  urged 
by  his  conscience  to  care  for  others.  Or  the  feeling 
of  obligation  may  influence  a  man  who  cares  little 
for  self-advancement  to  preserve  and  develop  his 
life,  and  cause  one  who  is  too  altruistically  inclined 
to  modify  his  altruism.1 

2o  Character.  —  Impulses  are  fashioned  into  fixed 
habits  of  action,  which  cannot  easily  be  changed,  and 
a  character  is  formed.  "  A  character,"  as  J.  S.  Mill 
says,  "is  a  completely  fashioned  will,"  and  by  will 
here  is  meant  "  an  aggregate  of  tendencies  to  act  in 
a  firm  and  prompt  and  definite  way  upon  the  princi- 
pal emergencies  of  life."2  We  may,  therefore,  say 
that  a  character  is  the  combined  product  of  one's 
natural  tendencies  or  impulses,  and  the  environment 
acting  upon  them.  In  other  words,  a  man's  char- 
acter depends  upon  his  will  or  nature  or  disposition, 
and  the  influences  exerted  upon  it  by  the  outside 
world  of  living  and  lifeless  things.  This  implies  : 
(1)  that  the  individual  starts  out  with  a  certain 
stock  in  trade,  certain  impulses  or  tendencies,  or,  to 
state  it  physiologically,  a  peculiarly  constituted  brain 
and  nervous  system  ;  (2)  that  these  tendencies  01 

1  See  Paulsen,  Ethics,  Bk.  Ill,  chap.  i. 
8  See  James,  Psychology  >  Vol.  I,  chap.  iv. 


314  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

impulses,  this  brain  and  nervous  system,  may  be 
influenced  and  modified,  hence  that  a  person  may 
be  educated  into  morality  ;  (3)  that  what  a  man 
will  be,  must  depend,  to  some  extent,  upon  what  he 
is,  that  is,  upon  his  native  disposition. 

A  man  may  have  been  endowed  by  nature  with 
bountiful  intellectual  and  physical  gifts,  but  the 
absence  of  favorable  conditions  or  the  presence  of 
unfavorable  ones  may  hinder  these  capacities  from 
being  realized.  A  person  who  might  have  become 
an  athlete,  had  he  been  born  in  a  certain  climate 
and  had  he  received  the  proper  training,  may  turn 
out  to  be  physically  deficient.  So,  too,  a  man  who 
might  have  become  a  great  artist  may  find  his 
natural  powers  weakening  from  lack  of  exercise. 

In  order,  then,  to  form  a  moral  character,  we  need 
a  natural  capacity  for  goodness,  so  to  speak,  and 
favorable  life  conditions.  We  have  just  seen  that 
the  absence  of  the  latter  is  bound  to  show  its  effects. 
But  the  former  also,  the  native  endowment,  is 
needed.  A  man  with  a  dwarfed  brain  can  never 
become  an  intellectual  prodigy.  But  there  are  many 
gradations  from  a  diseased  brain  and  organism  to  a 
perfectly  healthy  and  well-developed  system,  and 
consequently  many  gradations  in  physical  excellence. 
Some  persons  seem  to  be  utterly  devoid  of  moral 
impulses,  and  consequently  bound  to  turn  out  bad. 
Some  criminals  are  criminals  by  nature.  They  are 
what  has  been  called  by  alienists  morally  insane. 
Such  individuals  are  usually  without  the  impulses 


CHARACTER  AND  FREEDOM  315 

upon  which  morality  is  based.  "  Modern  reforma- 
tories have  testified  to  the  possibility  of  the  redemp- 
tion of  a  large  number  of  criminals  from  their  evil 
life,  but  they  have  shown,  nevertheless,  that  there  is 
a  lust  of  cupidity,  a  love  of  meanness,  and  an  animal- 
ity  from  which  rescue  is  almost  if  not  quite  impossi- 
ble. The  reaction  of  men  whose  past  opportunities 
have  been  about  equal,  upon  effort  for  their  reform, 
exhibits  also  very  different  degrees  of  readiness. 
The  testimony  of  reformatories  for  the  young  is 
especially  of  worth  on  this  point ;  and  I  once  heard 
Mrs.  Mary  Livermore  describe  the  faces  of  many  of 
the  children  to  be  found  in  a  certain  institution  of 
this  sort  as  bearing  fearful  witness  to  the  fact  that 
they  had  been  4  mortgaged  to  the  devil  before  they 
were  born.'  I  remember  a  number  of  cases  cited  by 
the  matron  of  a  certain  orphan  asylum,  showing  that 
children  taken  from  their  home  at  too  early  an  age 
to  have  learned  the  sins  of  their  parents  by  imitation 
may  yet  repeat  those  sins.  Out  of  three  children  of 
the  same  parents,  the  one  of  whom  was  a  drunkard 
and  prostitute,  the  other  a  thief,  one  developed,  at  a 
very  early  age,  a  tendency  to  dishonesty,  another  an 
extreme  morbid  eroticism,  and  the  third  child  ap- 
peared to  have  escaped  the  evil  inheritance ;  but  he 
was  still  very  young  when  I  last  heard  of  him."1 
"Whoever  is  destitute  of  moral  feeling  is,  to  that 
extent,  a  defective  being  ;  he  marks  the  beginning 
of  race-degeneracy  ;  and  if  propitious  influence  do 
1  Williams,  Evolutional  Ethics,  Part  II,  pp.  405  f. 


316  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

not  chance  to  check  or  to  neutralize  the  morbid 
tendency,  his  children  will  exhibit  a  further  degree 
of  degeneracy,  and  be  actual  morbid  varieties. 
Whether  the  particular  outcome  of  the  morbid  strain 
shall  be  vice,  or  madness,  or  crime,  will  depend  much 
on  the  circumstances  of  life."  "When  we  make  a 
scientific  study  of  the  fundamental  meaning  of  those 
deviations  from  the  sound  type  which  issue  in  insan- 
ity and  crime,  by  searching  inquiry  into  the  laws  of 
their  genesis,  it  appears  that  these  forms  of  human 
degeneracy  do  not  lie  so  far  asunder  as  they  are  com- 
monly supposed  to  do.  Moreover,  theory  is  here 
confirmed  by  observation;  for  it  has  been  pointed 
out  by  those  who  have  made  criminals  their  study 
that'  they  oftentimes  spring  from  families  in  which 
insanity,  epilepsy,  or  some  allied  neurosis  exists,  that 
many  of  them  are  weak-minded,  epileptic,  or  actu- 
ally insane,  and  that  they  are  apt  to  die  from  dis- 
eases of  the  nervous  system  and  from  tubercular 
diseases."1 

3.  The  Freedom  of  the  Will.— The  preceding 
statements  naturally  suggest  the  problem  of  the  free- 
dom of  the  will,  which  we  shall  now  consider.  Is 
the  will  free  or  is  it  determined?  Before  we  can 
answer  this  question  we  must  understand  the  terms 
involved  in  our  discussion. 

1  Maudsley,  Pathology  of  Mind,  pp.  102  ff.,  quoted  by  Williams, 
loc.  cit.  See  also  Lombroso,  Vhomme  criminel;  Krafft-Ebing, 
Psychiafrie,  Vol.  II,  p.  65  ;  Striimpell,  Pedagogische  Pathologic  / 
Williams,  Evolutional  Ethics,  pp.  402  ff.;  Paulsen,  Ethics,  pp.  373 
ff.,  475  ff. 


CHARACTER  AND  FREEDOM  317 

Let  us  see.  By  the  will  we  may  mean  the  atti- 
tude of  the  ego  toward  its  ideas,  i.e.,  the  element  of 
decision,  the  fiat  or  veto,  will  in  the  narrow  sense  of 
the  term.1  Or  by  will  we  may  mean  the  so-called 
impulsiveness  of  consciousness,  that  is,  the  tendency 
of  consciousness  to  act,  the  so-called  self-determina- 
tion of  the  soul.2  Thus  in  attention  there  is  psychic 
energy.  Whether  I  pay  attention  to  a  loud  noise  or 
force  my  attention  upon  my  lesson,  I  am  always  put- 
ting forth  mental  energy,  I  am  willing  in  the  broader 
sense  of  the  term.  This  psychic  energy  or  conation 
is  present  in  all  states  of  consciousness  ;  every  state 
of  consciousness  is  impulsive  or  energetic. 

By  freedom  we  may  mean  unhindered  by  an  exter- 
nal force.  A  nation  or  individual  is  free  when  not 
hindered  by  an  outer  force  ;  I  am  free  when  I  can 
do  what  I  please,  that  is,  when  my  acts  are  the 
expression  of  my  consciousness,  the  outflow  of  my 
own  will,  not  the  expression  of  some  consciousness 
outside  of  mine.  This  is  what  the  average  man 
means  by  freedom  when  he  applies  the  term  to 
human  beings.  Man  is  free  to  do  what  he  pleases, 
means  that  he  is  not  hindered  in  his  willing.  In 
this  sense  there  can  be  no  doubt  of  the  possibility  of 
man's  freedom.  I  am  free  to  get  up  or  sit  down, 
free  to  teach  or  not  to  teach,  as  I  please.  If  I  will 
to  get  up,  I  can  get  up  ;  if  I  will  to  sit  down  I  am 
free  to  do  that. 


i  See  chap,  viii,  §  3  (4).  ? 

-  See  chap,  viii,  §  3  (4),  p.  215,  note  2. 


318  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

But  by  freedom  I  may  mean  something  else.  I 
may  mean  by  free  something  uncaused,  undeter- 
mined, having  no  necessary  antecedents,  self-caused, 
causa  sui,  an  uncaused  cause.  God,  we  say,  is  un- 
caused, not  caused  by  something  outside  of  Himself, 
causa  sui.  „ 

If  we  apply  this  last  conception  to  the  will  in 
the  narrow  sense  of  the  term,  free  will  means: 
The  will  is  uncaused,  undetermined  by  antecedents. 
I  will  that  A  be  done  instead  of  B,  I  give  my  con- 
sent, or  assent,  to  A  without  being  determined 
thereto  by  anything  outside  of  me  or  inside  of  me. 
I,  as  will,  decide  for  or  against  an  act  absolutely, 
without  being  influenced  to  do  so.  Not  only,  then, 
can  I  do  as  I  please,  but  I  can  please  as  I  please. 

If  we  employ  the  term  will  in  the  broader  sense, 
and  accept  the  second  interpretation  of  freedom, 
free  will  means :  The  energy  of  the  soul,  the 
activity  or  impulsiveness  of  consciousness,  is  an 
uncaused  or  indeterminate  factor,  dependent  upon 
nothing.  We  can  put  forth  any  amount  of  effort 
of  attention  or  psychic  force  at  any  time.  The 
amount  of  effort  put  forth  depends  upon  no  antece- 
dents whatever ;  it  is  not  determined  by  anything ; 
it  is  free  or  indeterminate.1 

In  short,  the  libertarian  view  holds  that  the  will, 
in  whatever  sense  we  take  it,  is  not  subject  to  the 

1  See  James,  Psychology,  Vol.  II,  chap,  xxvi ;  also  "The  Di- 
lemma of  Determinism,"  in  The  Will  to  Believe;  Ladd,  Psychology, 
Descriptive  and  Explanatory,  chap.  xxvi. 


CHARACTER  AND  FREEDOM  319 


Of    Causality;     it    is-  a.    p.ansft    withnnf-,    frying    an 

effect.  Frged.QnL  here  means,  as  Kant  and  Scho- 
penhauer put  it,  thft  faculty  of  beginning  a  causal 
series.,  A  man  is  free  when  he  has  the  power  to 
begin  a~ea*JsaL.,sjeuie.s__j^t^^  in  any  way 

determined  .thereto.  Psychical  activity  is  free  when 
it  acts  without  cause,  when  it  depends  upon  no  ante- 
cedent event.  I  will  to  perform  a  certain  act  ;  noth- 
ing has  determined  me  to  will  as  I  did  ;  under  the 
same  conditions  I  could  have  willed  otherwise, 
However  this  view  may  be  modified,  freedom  essen- 
tially means  a  causeless  will. 

The  deterministic  view  opposes  this  conception, 
and  holds  that  there  is  no  such  thing  as  an  uncaused 
process,  either  in  the  physical  or  psychical  sphere  ; 
that  every  phenomenon  or  occurrence,  be  it  a  move- 
ment or  a  thought,  a  feeling  or  an  act  of  will,  is 
caused,  not  an  independent  factor,  but  dependent 
upon  something  else. 

4.  Determinism.  —  Which  of  these  two  views  is 
correct?  Is  the  will  caused  or  uncaused?  Let  us 
see.  By  a  cause  we  mean  the  antecedent  or  con- 
comitant, or  the  group  of  antecedents  and  concomi- 
tants, without  which  the  phenomenon  cannot  appear. 
The  scientist  explains  things  by  revealing  their 
invariable  antecedents  or  causes,  by  .showing  that 
things  act  uniformly  under  the  same  conditions. 
It  is  a  postulate  of  science  that  all  phenomena  in 
the  universe  are  subject  to  law  in  the  sense  that 
they  are  caused,  that  there  is  a  reason  for  their 


320  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

being  and  acting  so  and  not  otherwise.  Now  can 
we  apply  the  same  formula  to  human  willing,  or,  let 
us  say,  making  the  statement  as  broad  as  possible, 
to  the  human  mind  as  a  whole?  Has  the  human 
mind  any  such  antecedents  or  concomitants,  or  is  it 
independent  of  them?  Is  there  any  reason  why  the 
mind  should  think,  feel,  and  will  as  it  does?  Is  it 
dependent  upon  anything  for  thinking,  feeling,  and 
willing  in  this  way  ? 

Science  will  naturally  answer  the  question  in 
the  affirmative.  Its  ideal  is  to  explain  the  world, 
and  explanation  is  impossible  unless  things  happen 
according  to  law,  unless  there  is  uniformity  in 
action.  Even  where  we  are  unable  to  find  the 
invariable  antecedents  or  causes,  we  imagine  them 
to  be  present,  though  we  may  regard  their  discovery 
as  practically  impossible. 

Now  the  scientific  investigation  of  mind  seems 
to  show  uniformity  of  action.  Under  the  same 
circumstances  the  same  states  occur;  the  same  an- 
tecedents seem  to  be  followed  by  the  same  conse- 
quents. In  the  first  place,  we  may  say«that  in  order 
to  have  human  consciousness  we  must  be  born  with 
human  minds,  with  human  capacities  for  sensation, 
ideation,  feeling,  and  willing.  Physiologically  speak- 
ing, we  must  have  a  human  brain,  human  sense- 
organs,  a  human  body.  In  a  certain  sense,  all 
human  beings  are  alike  dependent  upon  the  nature 
of  the  consciousness  which  they  inherit  from  the 
race.  What  a  being  is  going  to  think,  feel,  and 


9    CHARACTER  AND  FREEDOM  321 

will  in  this  world  depends,  to  some  extent,  upon 
the  mental  and  physical  stock  in  trade  with  which 
he  begins  life. 

Not  only,  however,  does  man  inherit  the  general 
characteristics  of  the  race;  he  also  inherits  specific 
qualities  from  his  ancestors.  Just  as  a  man  may 
inherit  a  weak  or  a  vigorous  brain  and  more  or  less 
perfect  sense-organs,  so  he  may  receive  from  his 
nation  or  his  ancestors  a  capacity  for  thinking,  feel- 
ing, and  willing  in  a  particular  way.  In  short,  if  we 
embrace  all  mental  tendencies  or  capacities  or  func- 
tions under  one  term,  character,  we  may  say  that  every 
individual  has  a  character  of  his  own,  and  that  this 
character  is  dependent  upon  the  entire  past.  As 
Tyndall  says :  "  It  is  generally  admitted  that  the 
man  of  to-day  is  the  child  and  product  of  incalcu- 
lable antecedent  times.  His  physical  and  intellectual 
textures  have  been  woven  for  him  during  his  passage 
through  phases  of  history  and  forms  of  existence 
which  lead  the  mind  back  to  an  abysmal  past. " 1 

We  may  say  that  the  way  in  which  the  world 
affects  an  individual  must  depend  largely  upon  his 
character.  Physiologically  stated,  the  impression 
made  by  an  external  stimulus  upon  a  human  brain 
will  depend  largely  upon  the  nature  of  the  entire 
organism  affected,  which  does  not  merely  receive 
excitations,  but  transforms  them  according  to  its 
nature.  This  character,  this  brain,  is  the  heir  of 
all  the  ages,  an  epitome  of  the  past.  It  is  what  it 
1  "  Science  and  Man,"  Fortnightly  Review,  1877,  p.  594. 

Y 


322  INTRODUCTION1  TO  ETHICS 

is  because  many  other  things  have  been  what  they 
were.  In  this  sense  we  may  say  that  it  is  deter- 
mined. I  have  a  human  body  and  not  an  animal's, 
because  I  am  the  child  of  human  parents  ;  I  have  a 
particular  human  body  because  I  am  the  child  of  a 
particular  race,  of  a  particular  nation,  a  particular 
family.  Similarly  I  may  say  that  I  have  a  human 
mind,  a  human  will,  a  particular  human  mind  and  a 
particular  will,  because  I  am  the  child  of  a  particular 
race,  nation,  age,  and  family. 

The  mind,  then,  is,  in  a  certain  sense,  determined 
by  the  past.  But  it  is  likewise  determined  by  the 
present.  Just  as  a  seed  needs  certain  favorable 
conditions  in  order  to  grow  and  thrive,  a  character 
needs  an  environment  suitable  to  its  development.  To 
express  it  physiologically,  a  brain  needs  stimuli  in 
order  that  it  may  act  out  its  nature.  It  will  develop 
from  immaturity  to  maturity  only  under  the  proper 
conditions.  Just  as  a  man  must  exercise  his  muscles 
properly  in  order  to  develop  them,  he  must  exercise 
his  mental  powers  in  order  to  develop  them. 

As  was  said  before,  we  must  give  due  weight  to 
both  the  inside  and  the  outside,  the  character  and  its 
physical  and  social  environment.  The  brain  requires 
stimulation  in  order  to  act  at  all ;  it  will  not  develop 
without  being  incited  to  action  from  without.  But 
it  is  not  merely  a  puppet  in  the  hands  of  the  ex- 
ternal world  ;  it  does  not  merely  receive,  but  gives  ; 
it  strikes  back.  That  is,  it  reacts  upon  stimuli 
according  to  its  own  nature.  Similarly,  the  mind  is 


CHARACTER  AND  FREEDOM  323 

not  merely  a  passive  thing,  but  an  active  thing ; 
character  is  not  merely  a  creature,  but  a  creator. 
The  manner  in  which  a  person  will  think,  feel,  and 
act  will  depend  not  merely  upon  the  outward  cir- 
cumstances, but  upon  the  inner.  Stating  the  matter 
psychologically  and  applying  it  to  the  subject  of  the 
will,  we  may  say  :  Whether  an  idea  or  feeling  is  to 
have  motive  power  or  not,  depends  altogether  upon 
the  character  of  the  individual,  which  has  been 
formed  by  a  multitude  of  influences  and  conditions. 

Scientific  psychology,  then,  is  deterministic  in  the 
sense  of  claiming  that  states  of  consciousness,  like 
other  facts  in  the  universe,  have  their  invariable 
antecedents,  concomitants,  and  consequents.  Men- 
tal phenomena  are  inserted  into  the  general  system 
of  things  like  all  other  phenomena.  They  are  not 
isolated  and  independent  processes  without  connec- 
tion with  the  rest  of  the  world,  but  parts  of  an 
interrelated  whole. 

5.  Theological  Theories.  —  Now  that  we  have  con- 
sidered the  psychological  answer  to  the  question  of 
free  will  and  determinism,  let  us  briefly  examine  the 
attitude  of  theology  and  metaphysics  toward  the 
problem.  Theology  is  either  deterministic  or  liber- 
tarian, according  to  the  conceptions  from  which  it 
starts  out.  The  great  thesis  of  Christian  theology 
has  always  been  that  Christ  came  to  save  man  from 
sin.  Now,  reasoned  Augustine,  jf  Christ  came  to 
save  man  from  sin,  then  evidently  man  was  not  able 
to  save  himself,  he  was  unable  not  to  sin;  he  was 


324  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

determined  to  sin,  and  hence  not  free.1  This  is  the 
doctrine  of  original  sin.  Other  theologians  make  the 
same  thesis  their  starting-point,  and  reach  a  different 
conclusion.  If  Christ  saved  man  from  sin,  then 
evidently  man  was  a  sinner.  But  man  cannot  be  a 
sinner  unless  he  has  the  power  of  freedom  to  sin  or 
not  to  sin,  for  sin  implies  freedom.  Hence,  if  sin  is 
to  mean  anything,  man  must  be  free.2 

Or,  the  theologian  may  make  the  conception  of 
God  his  starting-point,  and  reach  either  freedom  or 
determinism.  God  is  all-powerful,  say  some,  and 
man  wholly  dependent  upon  Him.  If  man  were  free, 
then  God  could  not  determine  him  one  way  or  the 
other,  man  would  represent  an  independent  entity  in 
God's  universe ;  which  would  rob  God  of  some  of 
His  power.  No,  say  others,  God  is  all-good,  hence 
He  cannot  have  determined  man  to  sin.  If  man  were 
determined  by  God  to  sin,  then  God  would  not  be  an 
all-good  God ;  He  would  be  responsible  for  the  evil 
in  the  world.  But  as  He  is  not  responsible  for  the 
evil,  this  must  be  the  result  of  man's  choice.  Hence, 
man  is  not  determined,  but  free. 

6.  Metaphysical  Theories.  —  Metaphysics,  too,  may 
be  either  deterministic  or  indeterministic.  Material- 
ism assumes  that  matter  is  the  essence  or  principle 
of  reality,  that  everything  in  the  world  is  matter  in 
motion,  and  that  nothing  can  happen  without  cause. 
If  these  premises  are  true,  then  of  course  mind  is 

1  See  also  Luther  and  Calvin. 

2  See  Pelagius  and  the  Jesuits. 


CHARACTER  AND  FREEDOM  325 

the  effect  of  motion,  or  only  a  different  form  of 
motion,  and  is  governed  or  determined  by  the  laws 
of  matter. 

According  to  spiritualism  or  idealism,  mind  is  the 

is  a  manifestation 


of  mind.  Accordi»g4o-«aoni&tic..spiritualism,  there  is 
one  fundamental  mind  or  intelligence  in  theuniverse, 
of  which  ..all  individual  intelligences  or  minds  are 
the  .manifestation.  Kant  calls  this  principle  the 
intelligible  or  noumenal  world,  the  thing-in-itself  or 
freedom  ;  Fichte  calls  it  the  practical  ego  ;  Hegel 
calls  it  the  universal  reason  ;  Schopenhauer  calls  it 
the  will.  The  principle  itself  is  regarded  as  free, 
uncaused,  self-caused,  or  self-originative.  But  if 
man's  mind  is  a  manifestation  of  this  principle,  then 
man's  mind  depends  upon  it,  cannot  be  without  it, 
must  act  in  accordance  with  its  nature,  is  determined 
by  it.  Kantjmd  S^openhauer  j)Qth  hold  that  man's 
empirical  character,  that  is,  his  phenomenal  character^ 
his  character  as  we  know  it,  is  determined  by  the 
intelligible  character,  the  noumenalcharacter,  the 
principle  iojE  which  it  is  the  manifestation.1 

'  According  tO'ffturalisti£njr^  spirit- 

ualism, there  are  many  minds  or  principles.  Duns 
Scotus,  the  schoolman,  regards  every  human  being 
as  an  individualistic  principle,  absolutely  free  to 
choose  and  to  act,  not  bound  to  choose  or  act  in  any 
particular  way.  If  this  standpoint  is  strictly  adhered 
to,  —  and  it  is  the  only  possible  standpoint  for  those 
1  See  also  Green,  op.  cit. 


326  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

who  accept  the  freedom  of  indifference,  —  then  each 
individual  is  practically  a  creator.  Leibniz,  too,  is  a 
pluralist,  but  his  pluralism  differs  somewhat  from 
the  pluralism  of  Duns  Scotus.  The  world  consists 
of  monads  or  metaphysical  points,  or  spiritual  sub- 
stances, each  one  of  which  is  free  in  the  sense  of  not 
being  determined  from  without,  that  is,  by  any  power 
outside  of  itself.  Each  spirit  is,  as  Leibniz  puts  it, 
"a  little  divinity  in  its  own  department."  But 
since  whatever  happens  in  the  monad  happens  in 
accordance  with  its  own  nature,  the  monad  is  really 
determined  by  its  own  nature.  I  must  think,  feel, 
and  act  as  I  do  because  it  is  my  nature  or  character 
so  to  think,  feel,  and  act. 

If  we  reject  both  spiritualism  and  materialism,  and 
regard  mental  and  physical  processes  as  two  sides  of 
an  underlying  principle  which  is  neither  mind  nor 
matter,  but  the  cause  of  both,  then  both  mind  and 
matter  are  determined  by  this  principle,  and  are  not 
free.  The  principle  itself,  however,  may  be  free  or 
uncaused  or  self -originating. 

According  to  dualism  we  have  two  principles, 
mind  and  matter,  each  one  differing  in  essence  from 
the  other.  Each  person  is  a  corporeal  and  spiritual 
substance.  Dualism  may  be  either  deterministic  or 
indeterministic,  according  as  it  is  claimed  that  the 
mental  realm  is  governed  by  law  or  not.  Some 
thinkers  have  reasoned  that,  since  mind  and  matter 
go  together  or  run  parallel  with  each  other,  and  since 
matter  is  governed  by  law,  mind  must  be  governed 


CHARACTER  AND  FREEDOM  327 

by  law.  Others  have  denied  this  assumption  and 
have  insisted  that  mind  at  least,  or  the  human  will, 
is  free  and  uncaused.1 

7.  Reconciliation  of  Freedom  and  Determinism.  — 
Now  what  shall  be  our  conclusion  on  this  point  ?  In 
a  certain  sense  we  may  accept  a  kind  of  freedom. 
All  systems  assume  that  the  principle  of  being, 
whether  it  be  matter  or  mind,  or  both,  or  neither, 
has  neither  beginning  nor  end,  has  nothing  outside  of 
itself  upon  which  it  depends,  and  that  it  is  therefore 
uncaused  or  unexplainable.  We  must  also  maintain 
that  the  principle  is  determined  in  the  sense  that  it 
shows  uniformity  of  action,  or  is  governed  by  law. 
This  does  not  mean,  however,  that  it  is  forced  or 
compelled  or  coerced  or  pushed  into  action,  but  that 
it  acts  with  regularity  and  uniformity.2  Even  the 
atom  of  materialism  is  free  in  the  sense  of  not  being 
coerced  by  anything  outside  of  itself  ;  it  is  deter- 
mined in  that  it  does  not  act  capriciously  and  con- 
trary to  law,  but  uniformly  and  lawfully.  And  the 
human  mind  or  will  may  be  said  to  possess  similar 
characteristics.  The  will  is  determined  in  the  sense 
that  it  has  uniform  antecedents,  that  it  does  not  act 
capriciously  and  without  reason,  but  according  to 
law.  The  will  is  free  in  the  sense  that  it  is  not 
coerced  by  anything  outside  of  itself.  "  If  the  nature 
of  causality,"  as  Paulsen  aptly  says,  "consisted  of 

1  For  example,  Descartes. 

2  See  Paulsen,  Introduction  to  Philosophy,  English  translation, 
pp.  318  ff. 


328   ,  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

an  external  necessity  which  excludes  inner  necessity, 
they  would  be  right  who  rebel  against  its  application 
to  the  mental  sphere.  Only  in  that  case  they  ought 
to  go  a  step  farther  and  maintain  that  the  causal  law 
is  invalid  not  only  for  the  will,  but  for  the  entire 
soul-life.  But  if  we  define  the  notion  of  causality 
correctly,  if  we  mean  by  it  what  Hume  and  Leibniz 
meant  by  it,  that  is,  the  regular  harmony  between 
the  changes  of  many  elements,  then  it  is  plain  that  it 
prevails  in  the  mental  world  no  less  than  in  nature. 
It  may  be  more  difficult  to  detect  uniformity  in  the 
former  case  or  to  reduce  it  to  elementary  laws  than 
in  the  latter.  Still  it  is  evident  that  such  uniformity 
exists.  Isolated  or  lawless  elements  exist  in  neither 
sphere  ;  each  element  is  definitely  related  to  antece- 
dent, simultaneous,  and  succeeding  elements.  We 
can  hardly  reduce  these  relations  to  mathematical 
formulae  anywhere ;  but  their  existence  is  perfectly 
plain  everywhere.  Everybody  tacitly  assumes  that 
under  wholly  identical  inner  and  outer  circumstances 
the  same  will  invariably  ensue ;  the  same  idea,  the 
same  emotion,  and  the  same  volition  will  follow 
the  same  stimulus.  Freedom  by  no  means  conflicts 
(with  causality  properly  understood ;  freedom  is  not 
exemption  from  law.  Surely  ethics  has  no  interest 
in  a  freedom  of  inner  life  that  is  equivalent  to  law- 
lessness and  incoherency.  On  the  contrary,  the  occur- 
rence of  absolutely  disconnected  elements,  isolated 
volitions  standing  in  no  causal  connection  with  the 
past  and  future,  would  mean  derangement  of  the 


CHARACTER  AND  FREEDOM  329 

will,  nay,  the  complete  destruction  of  psychical  exist- 
ence. If  there  were  no  determination  whatever  of 
the  consequent  by  the  antecedent,  then,  of  course, 
there  could  be  no  such  thing  as  exercise  and  experi- 
ence, there  could  be  no  efficacy  in  principles  and 
resolutions,  in  education  and  public  institutions."1 

8.  Criticism  of  Indeterminism.  —  But  we  cannot 
maintain  that  the  will  is  free  in  the  Scotian  sense.2 

(1)  Wherever  in  the  world  we  have  a  phenom- 
enon we  seek  for  its  cause  in  some  antecedent  phe- 
nomenon or  sum  of  phenomena.  If  we  acknowledge 
the  application  of  the  causal  law  to  the  events  of 
physical  nature,  and  deny  its  validity  in  the  men- 
tal sphere,  we  present  an  exception  to  the  uniformity 
of  nature.  And  as  Bain  says:  "Where  there  is  no 
uniformity,  there  is  clearly  no  rational  guidance,  no 
prudential  foresight."  Every  act,  be  it  ever  so 
insignificant,  has  its  antecedent  cause.  I  can  sit 
down  or  get  up  as  I  please,  but  whether  I  please  or 
not  depends  upon  conditions  which  may  be  apparent 
or  concealed.  James  holds  in  his  article  on  "The 
Dilemma  of  Determinism  "  3  that  the  world  would  be 
no  less  rational  if  actions  like  the  bending  into  one 
street  rather  than  into  another  were  left  to  absolute 
volition.  However,  such  a  slight  deviation  from 
the  law  would  be,  as  far  as  the  principle  is  con- 

1  Paulsen,  Introduction  to  Philosophy,  p.  221.     See  also  his 
Ethics,  p.  460  note. 

2  See  §  6.     Parts  of  what  follows  are  taken  from  my  article  in 
the  Philosophical  Review,  referred  to  on  page  311  note. 

«  The  Will  to  Believe. 


330  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

cerned,  as  great  a  miracle  as  though  the  planet  Ju- 
piter should  sway  from  its  path.  It  would  make  the 
entire  universe  irrational.  In  the  words  of  Riehl : 
"  However  infinitely  small  the  difference  between 
such  a  world  and  the  real  one  might  appear  to  the 
fancy,  for  the  understanding  an  infinitely  small 
deviation  from  the  law  of  determination  of  occur- 
rences, from  the  general  law  of  causality,  would  still 
remain  an  infinitely  great  miracle.  There  would 
arise  out  of  the  ability  to  perform  apparently  insig- 
nificant acts  with  absolute  freedom,  the  ability  to 
pervert  the  entire  order  of  nature  in  continually 
increasing  extents.  The  consequences  of  a  single 
element  of  irrationality,  an  exception  to  the  law  of 
causation,  could  not  but  make  the  whole  of  nature 
irrational,  just  as  a  very  little  amount  of  ferment  is 
able  to  produce  fermentation  in  an  entire  organic 
mass.  Nature  could  not  exist  alongside  of  an  unde- 
termined power  of  freedom."1 

(2)  In  order  to  escape  these  difficulties  many 
devices  are  resorted  to.  We  must  think  in  terms  of 
causality  ;  true.  But,  nevertheless,  the  will  is  free. 
In  order  to  make  these  two  contradictions  agree, 
causality  is  simply  interpreted  to  mean  freedom  or 
non-causality.  In  other  words,  a  special  theory  of 
causality  is  often  manufactured  to  meet  the  require- 
ments of  the  libertarian  doctrine.  Dr.  Ward2  is 
guilty  of  such  a  fabricated  scheme  of  harmonizing 

1  Riehl,  Kriticismus,  Vol.  II,  Part  II,  p.  243. 

2  Dublin  Review,  July,  1874. 


CHARACTER  AND  FREEDOM  331 

opposites.  He  will  not  grant  that  "  free  "  and  "  un- 
caused "  are  synonyms.  There  are  two  kinds  of  cau- 
sation ;  in  the  one  case  it  means  a  law  of  uniform 
phenomenal  sequence.  By  this  kind  of  causation 
the  physical  world  is  ruled,  the  important  exception 
being  miracles.  But  there  is  also  such  a  thing  as 
originative  causation.  An  intelligent  substance,  for 
example,  acts  as  an  originative  cause.  Such  a  sub- 
stance is  the  human  soul.  Dr.  Ward  bases  his  in- 
terpretation of  the  causal  law  on  the  hypothesis  of 
freedom,  which  is  the  very  thing  to  be  proved.  You 
say,  he  exclaims,  there  is  no  such  a  thing  as  an  origi- 
native cause  ?  Look  at  the  human  will.  You  have 
anti-impulsive  will-acts  due  to  the  soul's  power  of 
absolute  choice.  You  say,  he  continues,  that  free 
will  violates  the  causal  principle  ?  Not  at  all,  for 
what  does  causation  signify  but  originative  cause  ? 
—  It  is  evident  we  have  here  an  excellent  example 
of  the  circulus  vitiosus. 

Martineau 1  may  be  accused  of  the  same  vicious 
reasoning.  The  will,  he  says,  is  a  cause,  i.e.,  "  it  is 
something  which  terminates  the  balance  of  possibili- 
ties in  favor  of  this  phenomenon  rather  than  that." 
This  notion  he  applies  to  the  universe,  then  back 
again  to  the  will.  He  wants  to  show  that  the  idea 
of  causality  applied  does  not  make  for  determinism, 
but  for  freedom  ;  he  begins  by  assuming  that  cau- 
sality equals  freedom.  His  false  reasoning  is  very 
apparent.  Determinists  say,  according  to  him, 
1  Study  of  Religion,  Vol.  II,  Bk.  Ill,  pp.  196-324. 


332  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

every  action  must  have  a  cause,  the  will  must  be 
controlled  by  motives,  for  nothing  can  be  without  a 
cause.  The  will  cannot  be  free  because  of  this 
causal  principle.  Yes,  answers  Martineau,  if  cau- 
sality means  that  different  effects  must  have  differ- 
ent causes,  then  the  will  is  not  free.  But  it  is 
not  true  that  different  effects  must  have  different 
causes.  The  will  is  not  determined,  because  differ- 
ent effects  need  not  have  different  causes.  They 
need  not  have  different  causes,  because  in  the  will 
we  have  an  example  of  a  cause  which  has  the 
power  to  determine  an  alternative,  i.e.,  a  free  cause. 
This  amounts  to  saying,  The  will  is  free  because  it  is 
free. 

(3)  We  observe,  then,  that  a  free  will  in  this 
sense  is  wholly  inconceivable  ;  it  violates  the  law 
of  causality.  The  psychological  investigation  has 
already  shown  that  it  contradicts  the  facts.  We 
must  now  also  insist  that,  if  the  will  is  free,  it  is 
utterly  useless  to  attempt  to  determine  it.  And  yet 
everybody  acts  on  the  conviction  that  this  may  be 
done.  If  nothing  can  determine  it,  what  is  the  use 
of  education,  of  laws,  of  arguments,  of  entreaties,  of 
moral  suasion,  of  punishment,  and  all  those  means 
employed  to  determine  conduct  ?  How  can  an 
utterly  groundless  willing  be  in  any  way  held  re- 
sponsible ?  The  voluntary  activity  has  been  initi- 
ated without  being  caused.  Hence  nothing  can  be 
done  to  affect  it.  Like  a  deus  ex  machina,  the  free 
will  enters  upon  the  scene  of  action,  and  in  the  same 


CHARACTER  AND  FREEDOM  333 

mysterious  manner  disappears.  How  can  it  be  ap- 
proached, this  guilty  party  ?  Why  offer  it  motives 
if  these  have  no  influence  ?  Besides,  if  the  will  does 
not  come  under  the  causal  law,  why  speak  of  its  de- 
velopment during  the  various  periods  of  race  and 
individual  life  ?  If  it  cannot  be  determined,  how 
explain  the  influences  of  disease  and  stimulants  on 
it  ?  Why  should  it  ever  degenerate  ?  What  be- 
comes of  it  in  sleep  ?  Where  is  it  in  the  hypnotized 
state  ? 

What  would  morality  be  to  a  person  absolutely 
free  ?  "  Indeterminism,"  says  Riehl,  "  would  sub- 
ject our  moral  life  to  contingency."  The  free  will 
cannot  be  impelled  by  reason  to  act ;  it  can  in  no 
way  be  determined  to  adopt  the  more  reasonable 
course,  but  acts  groundlessly.  Nor  can  conscience 
be  of  avail,  nor  remorse,  nor  any  other  ethical  feel- 
ing. A  person  acting  without  cause  would  be 
utterly  unreliable ;  in  fact,  the  ideal  free  man's 
actions  would  resemble  those  of  the  lunatic.  To 
desire  such  freedom  would,  indeed,  as  Leibniz 
exclaims,  be  to«desire  to  be  a  fool.  Or,  in  Schel- 
ling's  words :  "  To  be  able  to  decide  for  A  and  non- 
A  without  any  motives  whatsoever,  would,  in  truth, 
simply  be  a  prerogative  to  act  in  an  altogether  irra- 
tional manner." 

I  also  fail  to  see  in  what  respect  the  cause  of  liber- 
tarianism  is  helped  by  granting  that  the  will  cannot 
act  without  motives,  but  that  it  is,  in  some  cases, 
able  to  choose  one  motive  to  the  exclusion  of  the 


334  INTRODUCTION-  TO  ETHICS 

other,  and  that,  too,  without  cause.  The  same  fal- 
lacy obtains  in  the  reasoning,  whether  you  extend  or 
limit  this  faculty  of  the  will  to  begin  a  new  causal 
series.  When  Martineau  asserts  the  will  to  be  a 
cause  "  which  terminates  the  balance  of  possibilities 
in  favor  of  this  phenomenon  rather  than  that,"  he 
maintains  absolute  freedom  of  volition,  and  lays  him- 
self open  to  all  the  objections  urged  above. 

9.  The  Consciousness  of  Freedom.  —  There  are,  it 
is  said,  eertain  facts  which  make  for  free  will.  "  I 
hold,  therefore,",  ^ay^  Sidg-wiak^^Lthat  against  the" 
formidable  ^rray^of  f»mrm1a.tivft  ejgidence  offered  Jor 
D eterminismA.Jihej&,Jji,Jbut  one  argument  oLjeal 
force  ;  the  immediate  .afcmatiaa^ojj:  consciousness  in 
the  moment  of^ deliberate  action."1 

(1)  Now,  if  it  were  really  true  that  we  have  a 
consciousness  of  being  free  in  the  sense  in  which  this 
term  has  been  used,  this  feeling  would  have  as  little 
weight  as  a  scientific  proof  as  the  feeling  that  the 
sun   moves   around    the   earth   has   for   astronomy. 
Where  a  man  accepts  this  "  immediate  intuition  of 
the  soul's  freedom  "  as  a  proof  of  its  actuality,  he  is 
simply  asserting  that  his  soul  is  free  because  he  feels 
it  to  be  free.2 

(2)  And  even  granting  that  such  a  feeling  can 
prove  anything,  must  we  not  show  (a)  that  it  exists, 
and  (6)  what  it  tells  us  ?     Libertarians  claim  that 
men  are  conscious  of  being  free,  and  see  herein  a 
proof  of  their  thesis.      But  the  all-important  ques- 

1  Methods  of  Ethics,  p.  67.  2  Dr.  Ward. 


CHARACTER  AND  FREEDOM  335 

tion  is,  whether  men  really  say  and  believe  them- 
selves to  be  free  in  the  sense  in  which  these  philoso- 
phers claim  that  they  are  free.  The  libertarian  is 
apt  to  throw  into  this  consciousness  of  freedom  his 
entire  doctrine,  thereby  garbling  the  facts  to  suit  his 
theory. 

It  is  necessary,  therefore,  to  analyze  this  conscious- 
ness of  freedom.  Before  the  volition  takes  place 
there  may  be  present  in  consciousness  a  feeling  that 
I  can  do  either  this  or  that.  In  the  moment  of  will- 
ing no  such  feeling  exists,  while  after  the  act  has 
been  willed  and  executed  I  say  to  myself,  I  might 
have  done  otherwise.  Now  all  the  possibilities  of 
action  occur  to  me,  my  mind  is  in  a  different  state, 
certain  ideas  and  feelings  that  formerly  exerted  an 
irresistible  influence  are  no  longer  present,  or  only 
dimly  remembered.  All  the  conditions  being 
changed,  I  feel  as  though  I  could  have  acted  differ- 
ently. And  so  I  could  have  done,  if  only  I  had 
willed  differently,  and  so  I  could  have  willed  differ- 
ently, if  only  the  conditions  of  willing  had  been 
different.  I  can  do  what  I  will  to  do  ;  I  am  free  to 
get  up  or  sit  down,  free  to  go  home  or  stay  here,  to 
give  up  all  my  prospects  in  life,  if  only  I  will  to  do 
so.  Never  does  my  consciousness  tell  me  that  a  voli- 
tion is  uncaused,  that  there  was  no  reason  for  my 
willing  as  I  did  will,  that  the  will  is  the  absolute 
beginning  of  an  occurrence,  that  at  any  moment  any 
volition  may  arise  regardless  of  all  antecedent  pro- 
cesses. Least  of  all  does  it  tell  me  that  I  am  the 


336  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

manifestation  of  an  intelligible  self  which  I  feel  to 
be  free. 

Against  those  who  so  strongly  emphasize  the 
sense  of  freedom,  we  may  urge  the  deterministic 
standpoint  generally  accepted  in  all  the  affairs  of 
life.  We  regard  the  actions  of  men  as  necessary 
functions  of  their  character.  In  all  historical  sci- 
ences, we  invariably  seek  for  the  causes  of  events; 
we  analyze  the  characters  of  the  actors,  and  show 
the  influences  of  their  times  and  surroundings.  Our 
entire  social  life  is  based  on  the  conviction  that 
under  certain  conditions  men  will  act  in  a  certain 
way.  That  this  is  so,  let  the  methods  of  educa- 
tion and  government  attest. 

10.  Responsibility.  —  The  feeling  of  responsibility 
is  also  urged  against  determinism,  and  accepted  as  a 
proof  of  liberty.  This,  however,  proves  nothing  but 
that  acts  and  motives  depend  upon  character  or  flow 
from  the  will  of  the  agent.  The  person  regards 
every  voluntary  action  of  his  as  the  expression  of  his 
personality,  which,  in  truth,  it  is.  The  act  is  his, 
willed  by  him  and  acknowledged  by  him,  the  prod- 
uct of  his  own  character.  He  does  not  regard  his 
character  as  something  outside  of  himself,  as  some- 
thing forcing  him  in  a  certain  direction,  pushing 
him  now  hither,  now  thither,  but  identifies  himself 
with  it.  In  fact,  he  is  his  character,  and  therefore 
holds  himself  responsible  for  his  acts  and  motives. 
And  because  he  feels  himself  as  an  agent,  the  acts  as 
his  acts,  he  sees  no  reason  why  this  self  from  which 


CHARACTER  AND  FREEDOM  337 

the  acts  emanated  should  not  be  held  responsible. 
Who  else  should  be  held  responsible  but  the  willing 
personality  ? 

But  if  character  is  the  necessary  product  of  con- 
ditions, why  hold  any  one  responsible,  even  though 
he  feel  himself  responsible?  If  man's  acts  are  the 
effect  of  causes,  why  punish  him  for  what  he  cannot 
help  ?  Because  punishment  is  a  powerful  determin- 
ing cause.  Why  should  I  be  held  responsible  for 
my  deeds?  "The  reply  is,"  in  Tyndall's  words,  "  the 
right  of  society  to  protect  itself  against  aggres- 
sive injurious  forces,  whether  they  be  bound  or 
free,  forces  of  nature  or  forces  of  man."1  Punish- 
ment can  have  a  meaning  only  in  a  deterministic 
scheme  of  things.  We  can  by  education  make  a 
moral  being  out  of  man,  that  is,  influence  his  char- 
acter, determine  him  to  act  for  the  social  good.  As 
Riehl  expresses  it  epigraminatically  :  "  Man  is  not 
held  responsible  because  he  is  by  birth  a  moral 
being ;  he  becomes  a  moral  being  because  he  is  held 
responsible." 

11.  Determinism  and  Practice. — There  are  many 
men  who,  while  acknowledging  the  arguments  of 
the  deterministic  theory  to  be  unanswerable,  yet 
reject  it  on  practical  grounds.  They  claim  that  life 
would  be  impossible  on  such  an  hypothesis. 

The  deterministic  theory  is  not,  however,  a  dis- 
couraging and  paralyzing  doctrine.  On  the  con- 
trary, the  knowledge  that  we  are  determined  must 
1  Fortnightly  Review,  1877,  "  Science  and  Man,"  p.  612. 


338  INTRODUCTION  TO  ETHICS 

determine  us  to  avoid  certain  conditions,  and  seek 
others  more  favorable.  Determinism  does  not  de- 
stroy the  energy  of  action.  Fatalistic  nations  like 
the  Mohammedans  were  far  more  energetic  than 
Christian  ascetics,  who  believed  in  the  will's  abso- 
lute freedom.  Determinism  is  the  strongest  motive 
to  action.  If  I  am  exceedingly  desirous  of  fame, 
how  can  the  knowledge  that  this  desire  depends 
upon  conditions  affect  me  ?  Why  should  it  make 
me  less  ambitious  ?  If  I  have  been  morally  educa- 
ted, I  shall  continue  to  strive  after  certain  things  in 
spite  of  my  belief  in  determinism.  I  shall  go  right 
on  deliberating  and  choosing  as  heretofore,  and 
make  an  effort  to  live  an  honorable,  useful  life. 
"  Now  when  it  is  said  by  a  fatalist,"  Butler  writes, 
the  whole  constitution  of  nature,  and  the 
every  thing  and  every  mode 


irc_^^ 

and  could  not  possibly  have  been  otherwise,  it  is  to 
be  observed,  that  this  necessity  does  not  exclude 
deliberation,  choice,  preference,  and  acting  from  cer- 
tain principles  and  to  certain  ends  ;  because  all  this 
is  a  matter  of  undoubted  experience,  acknowledged 
by  all,  and  what  every  man  may,  every  moment,  be 
conscious  of."1  "The  author  of  nature  then  being 
certainly  of  some  character  or  other,  notwithstanding 
necessity,  it  is  evident  this  necessity  is  as  reconcil- 
able with  the  particular  character  of  benevolence, 
veracity,  and  justice,  in  him,  which  attributes  are 

1  Analogy  ofEeligion^  chap,  vi,  p.  153. 


CHARACTER  AND  FREEDOM  339 

ff 

the  foundation  of  religion3as_.with_  any  other  charac- 
ter ;  since  we  find  their  necessity  no  more  hinders 
men  from  being  benevolent  than  cruel;  true  than 
faithless ;  just  than  unjust,  or,  if  the  fatalist  pleases, 
what  we  call  unjust."1 

1  Analogy  of  Religion,  chap,  vi,  p.  169. 


INDEX 


STANDS  FOR  NOTE 


Absolute  morality,  118,  145. 
Action,  antecedents  of,  209  ff. 
Alexander,  S.,  73. 
Altruism,  126  f  .  ;  egoism  and,  258  ff  . 
Altruists,  258  n.  1. 
Anniceris,  159,  177  w.  1. 
Antisthenes,  on  highest  good,  183  f  . 
Antoninus  of   Florence,  on    con- 

science, 31. 

Approval,  feelings  of,  82  f. 
Aristippus,  158  f  .,  176. 
Aristotle.  109  n.  1,  123,  127  n.  1,  255 

n.  1  ;  his  definition  of  an  end,  156 

f  .  ;  on  highest  good,  184  ff.  ;  on 

pleasure-pain  as  the  consequence 

of  action,  240. 
Associationists,     theory  of     con- 

science, 55  f  . 
Atheism  and  teleological  theory, 

150  f. 
AjqgustiJi^SO.  306. 

B. 

Bacon,  262  n.  7,  287. 

Bahnsen,  289  n.  1. 

Bain,  175,  214  n.2,  230  n.  1,  233  n. 

2,  262  n.  7,  329  ;  on  conscience,  57 

ff  .  ;  on  motive  to  action,  218  ff  .  ; 

on  pleasure-pain  as  consequence 

of  action,  240. 
Balance  of  pleasures,  293. 
Barratt,  175. 
Baumann,  214  n.  2. 
Benthaja^-177,  262  n.  7;  on  con- 

science, 55  ;  on 

f.  ;  and  Mill. 


Biology  and  highest  good,  276  ff. 


Bonaventura,  on  conscience,  31. 
Bradley.  142. 

Brentano,  on  conscience,  41  f. 
Burckhardt,  87. 
Burton,  87. 

Butler.  36  n.  1,  80,  130  n.  2,  150,  262 
n.  7  ;  on  conscience.  42  jf.  ;  on  de- 

t^rTrMnigm        33K    f  .  ;      OU  JtllgEfiSt 


C. 

Calderwood,  85  ;  on  conscience,  34f  . 

Calvin,  324  n.  1. 

Carlyle,  on  motives  to  action,  226  f  . 

Carneri,  73. 

Categorical  imperative,  61  ff.,  133 
ff. 

Causality,  327  ff.  ;  and  will,  319  ff. 

Character,  311  ff  . 

Christian  conception,  190  n.  1. 

Chrysostom,  29. 

Cicero,  187. 

Civilization  and  pessimism,  299  ff. 

Clarke,  S.,  80,  85  ;  on  conscience,  33. 

Conscience,  analysis  and  explana- 
tion of,  74  ff  .  ;  differences  in,  87  f  ., 
96  ff  .  ;  empirical  view  of,  47  ff  .  ; 
evolutional  view  of,  and  morality, 
111  ff  .  ;  genesis  of,  93  ff  .  ;  and 
heredity,  70  ff.  ;  and  inclination, 
167  ff  .  ;  immediacy  and  infalli- 
bility of,  105  ff.  ;  innatenessof,  100 
ff  .  ;  intuitional  view  of,  28  ff  .  ; 
criticism  of  intuitional  view  of, 
85  ff  .  ;  as  judgment,  83  ff  .  ;  met- 
aphysical view  of,  28  ff.  ;  myth- 
ical view,  27  f.  ;  as  standard  of 
morals,  116  ff  .  ;  and  teleological 


341 


342 


INDEX 


or    utilitarian   theory,   129   ff.; 

theories  of,  26  ff. 
Consciousness  of  freedom,  334  ff . 
Cooperation,  272  ff. 
Criminals,  314  ff. 
Criterion  of  morality  and  highest 

good,  155  ff. 

Cudworth,  85 ;  on  conscience,  32  f . 
Cumberland,  261  n.  1,  262  w.  7 ;  on 

highest  good,  193  f . 
Cynics,  on  highest  good,  183  f . 
Cyrenaics,  on  highest  good,  158  ff. 

D. 

D'Alembert,  262. 

D' Arcy,  63  n.  3. 

Darwin,  80,  88,  262  n.  1 ;  on  con- 
science, 64  ff. ;  on  inherited  con- 
science, 102  n.  1 ;  on  highest  good, 
195  f. ;  on  motives  of  action,  222. 

Decision  of  will,  212  ff. 

Democritus,  176,  270;  on  highest 
good,  162  f . 

Depravity,  306  f . 

Descartes,  117  n.  1,  327  n.  1. 

Determinism,  319  ff.;  and  prac- 
tice, 337  ff. 

Diogenes  of  Sinope,  184  n.  1. 

Disapproval,  feelings  of,  82  f. 

Dorner,  A.,  200. 

Druminond,  W.,  295. 

Dualism  and  free  will,  326  f. 

Duns  Scotus,  117;  on  conscience, 
47  n.  1 ;  on  free  will,  325  f. 

Duty  and  inclination,  107  ff. 

E. 
Effects  of  action,  118  ff.,  134  ff., 

258  ff. ;  motives  and,  141  ff. 
Effort,  feeling  of,  216  f. 
Egoism,  126  f. ;  altruism  and,  258 

ff . ;  criticism  of,  263  ff . ;  as  moral 

motive,  272  ff. 
Emotional     intuitionists,    36   ff. ; 

criticism  of,  91  ff. 
Empirical  theory  of  conscience,  47 

ff. ;  and  intuitionism  reconciled, 

59  ff. 
End  justifies  the  means,  146  ff. 


Ends  or  ideals,  260  ff. 

Energism,  127,  180  ff . ;  historical 

summary,  203  f . 

Environment  and  heredity,  313  ff. 
Epictetus.  187.  „ 

EJjMcUrUS,   nn    hiprhoaf  fiftftfl ,   ^  ff  , 

170,  207. 

Ethical  judgment,  subject-matter 
of,  9  ff . 

Ethics,  definition  of,  4  ff. ;  differ- 
entia of,  7  ff . ;  and  metaphysics, 
17  ff . ;  methods  of,  20  ff. ;  as  a 
normative  science,  23  n.  3 ;  and 
politics,  16  f . ;  and  psychology, 
13  ff. ;  theoretical  and  practical, 
22  f . ;  value  of,  23  ff. 

Eudaemonism,  126  n.  1, 127  n.  1, 180 
ff.,  184  ff. 

Evaluation,  5. 

Explanation,  2  f . 

F. 

Faust,  289. 

Fiat,  212  ff. 

Fichte,  on  free  will,  325 ;  on  moral 
motive,  269  f . 

Fowler,  175. 

Freedom,  of  will,  316  ff. ;  conscio 
ness  of,  334  ff. ;  criticism  of,  329 
ff. ;  and  determinism  reconciled, 
327  ff. ;  of  indifference,  325  f ., 
329  ff. ;  and  metaphysics,  324  ff. ; 
and  science,  320;  and  theology, 
323  f. 

G. 

Genesis  of  conscience,  93  ff 
Gerson,  117. 

Gizycki,  G.  von,  73,  175. 
Golden  age,  308  ff. 
Good,  see  Highest  Good. 
Good  will,  142  ff. 
Green,  63  n.  1,  n.  3,  325  n.  1. 
Guyau,  72,  80,  93  n.  1,  111  n.l;  on 
pleasure-theory,  222  n.  1. 

H. 

Hamlet,  287,  289. 
Happiness  and  virtue,  303  ff. 


INDEX 


343 


Hartley,  on  conscience,  56  f  .  ;  on 
sympathy,  262  n.  7. 

Hartmann,  289  w.  1. 

Hedonism,  126,  155  ff.  ;  critique  of, 
205  ff.  ;  metaphysical,  247  f.  ;  psy- 
chological fallacies  of,  236  ff  .  ; 
summary  of  history  of,  176  ff  . 

Hedonistic  psychology,  217  ff  . 

Hegel,  325. 

Hegesias,  159. 

Helve'tius,  262  ;  on  conscience,  53. 

Herbart,  41,  83  n.  3. 

Heredity,  conscience  and,  70  ff., 
101  ff.  ;  environment  and,  313  ff. 

Highest  good,  205  ff  .,  250  ff.  ;  biol- 
ogy and,  276  ff.  ;  and  criterion 
of  morality,  155  ff.  ;  and  moral- 
ity, 278  ff  .  ;  theories  of,  155  ff  . 

Hobbes,  on  conscience,  ^1.1^  ;  on 
egoism.261  ; 


Hoffding,  73,  200,  230  .n.  1,  257  n.  1, 
262  n.  1  ;  on  motives,  228  ;  on  will, 
213. 

Holbach,  53  n.  5,  262. 

Humanity,  ideal  of,  253  ff  . 

_  36  n.  1,  141  n.  1,  177,  262  n.  7, 
on  conscience  ?  39  ff  .  ;  on  ego- 
ism. 265  n.l,  266,  267  n.  1  ;  _OB. 
highest  good,  166  f. 

Hutcheson,  132  n.l,  143  w.  1,  177, 
262  n.  7  ;  on  conscience,  36  n.  1, 
38  f  .  ;  on  highest  good,  165  f  . 

Huxley,  256  n.  1. 

Hypothetical  imperatives,  133  ff  . 

I. 

Ideal  of  humanity,  253  ff  . 

Ideals,  250  ff  . 

Ideo-motor  action,  211. 

Immediacy  of  conscience,  105  ff  . 

Impulses,  227  f.,  233  f  .  ;  physiology 
of,  233  f  .  ;  and  pleasure-pain, 
237  f  .  ;  and  virtues,  312  f  . 

Impulsive  acts,  211  f. 

Inclination  and  duty,  107  ff  . 

Indeterminism,  criticism  of,  329  ff  . 

Infallibility  of  conscience,  105  ff. 

Innate  elements  in  conscience, 
100  ff. 


Instincts,  210,  224  f . ;  explanations 
of,  131. 

Intellectual  pleasures,  225  f . 

Intuitionism,  28  ff. ;  criticism  of, 
85  ff.;  emotional,  36  ff . ;  and 
empiricism  reconciled,  59  ff. ;  per- 
ceptional, 42  ff.,  85  ff. ;  rational- 
istic, 28  ff.;  and  teleological 
theory,  152  ff . 

J. 

James,  12, 19, 214, 233  n.  3, 254, 300, 
329;  on  egoism,  263  ff. ;  on  mo- 
tives to  action,  220  ff . ;  on  voli- 
tion, 213  n.  1. 

Janet,  35  n.  1. 

Jesuits,  324  n.  2. 

Jhering,  73,  257,  262  n.  7 ;  on  high- 
est good,  198  f . 

Jodl,  230  n.  1 ;  on  motives  of  ac- 
tion, 229. 

Judgment  in  conscience,  83  ff . 

K. 

Kant.  41,  81,  8£  97,  1<&J42,  l^ 
on  conscience,  60  ff!;  on  free 
will,  319,  325 ;  on  highest  good, 
2Qft,fk ;  on  inclination  and  duty, 
107  ff . ;  on  infallible  conscience, 
105  ff. 

Keats,  288. 

Kiilpe,  230  n.  1.  247. 

L. 

La  Bruyere,  262. 

Ladd,  98  n,  2,  230  ?i.  1,  233  n.  4,  240 

w.  3 ;  on  conscience,  98  n.  2 ;  on 

egoism,  265  n.  2. 
Lamettrie,  53  n.  5,  262. 
La  Rochefoucauld,  262. 
Lear,  303. 
Lecky,  85,  87,  279. 
Leibniz,  12  n.  1,  86  n.l,  164  w.3; 

on  free  will,  326,  333. 
Liver  more,  315. 
Locke,  177 ;  on  conscience,  48  ff . ; 

on  highest  good,  163  f . 
Lotze,  214  n.  2. 
Luther,  324  n.  1. 


344 


INDEX 


M. 

Macaulay,  92. 

Mackenzie,  63  n.  3. 

Maine,  278  n.  2. 

Mainlander,  289  w.  1. 

Mandeville,  53  n.  5 ;  on  egoism, 
261  f. 

Marcus  Aurelius,  187. 

Marshall,  240  n.  3. 

Martineau,  9,  36  n.  1,  81,  85,  142, 
178  n.  1 ;  on  conscience,  43  ff . ;  on 
free  will,  331  f . 

Materialism,  324  ft. 

Memory,  243  f . 

Metaphysics,  ethics  and,  17  ff. ;  and 
free  will,  324  ff. 

Mill,  James,  57  n.  1,  169  n.  4. 

Mill,  J.  S.,  57  n.  1,  126  n.  1,  151  n. 

*  L"  IbV  n.  1,177  ff .,  207, 226,  262  n. 
7,  313 ;  Bentham  and,  172  f . ;  on 
highest  good,  169  ff . 

Moral  action,  269  ff . ;  moral  codes, 
137  ff.;  moral  evaluation,  5; 
moral  insanity,  3,  4  ff . ;  moral 
motives,  269  ff. ;  moral  philoso- 
phy, 5. 

Moralistic  pessimism,  303  ff. 

Morality,  criterion  of,  116  ff . ;  cri- 
terion of,  and  highest  good,  155 
ff . ;  and  ethics,  23  ff . ;  and  highest 
good,  278  ff . ;  and  prosperity,  137 
ff . ;  theological  view  of,  117  f . 

Motives,  206 ;  of  action,  209  ff.,  261 
ff . ;  and  effects,  141  ff . ;  egoistic 
and  altruistic,  253  ff.;  moral, 
269  ff. 

Muirhead,  63  n.  3. 

Miinsterberg,  73,  233  n.  3. 

N. 
Neo-Platonists,  on   highest  good, 

188  ff. 

Newman,  Cardinal,  135  n.  1. 
Nichols,  242  n.  1. 
Nietzsche,  272. 

O. 

Obligation,  79  ff. 
Ontogenesis,  99. 


Optimism,  286  ff. 
Original  sin,  306  f. 

P. 

Pain,  as  a  motive,    232  ff.  ;  as  a 

negative  quantity,.  296  ff  .  ;  as  a 

warning,  242  ff. 
Paley,  150,  177,  262  n.7;  on  con- 

science, 54  f  .  ;  on  highest  good, 

167  f. 

Paul,  St.,  122. 
Paulsen,  73,  115,  125  n.  1,  127  n.  1, 

143,  200,  242,  253  f.,  259  n.  3,  260, 

262  n.  7,  303,  327  f  . 
Pelagius,  29,  324  n.  2. 
Perceptional  intuitionists,  42  ff. 
Perfection-theory,  180  ff  . 
Pessimism,    286   ff.;    and    civili- 

zation, 299  ff.  ;  emotional,  293  ff.  ; 

intellectual,    291   f  .  ;     different 

kinds  of,  290  ff  .  ;  scientific,  289 

ff  .  ;  subjective,  287  ff  .  ;  volitional, 

303  ff. 
Phylogenesis,  100. 

123;  on  highest  goodjjl  ff  . 


Pleasure,  as  a  bait,  242  ff  .  ;  as  en 
of  all  existence,  239  ff  .  ;  as  high- 
est good,  207  ff  .  ;  as  the  moral 
end,  249  ;  as  motive,  218  ff  .  ;  of 
race,  as  motive,  239. 

Pleasure-pains,  as  consequence  of 
action,  239  ff  .  ;  as  the  only  feel- 
ings, 230,  237;  and  impulses, 
237  f  .  ;  as  motives,  212,  228  ff  .  ; 
physiology  of,  246  f  .  ;  and  preser- 
vation, 242  ff  . 

Pleasure-theory,  155  ff. 

Plotinus,  188  n.  1. 

Politics,  ethics  and,  16  f  . 

Porter,  35  n.  1. 

Practical  ethics,  285  ;  and  theoreti- 
cal ethics,  22  f  . 

Practical  philosophy,  5. 

Practice,  theory  and,  5  n.  3,  22  f  . 

Prayer,  214  n.  2,  233  n.  2. 

Preservation,  pleasure-pain  and, 
242  ff. 

Price,  35  n.  1. 

Psychology,  ethics  and,  13  ff  . 


INDEX 


345 


E. 

Rational  intuitionists,  28  ff. 
Realization-theory,  180  ff. 
Reasoning,  244  f . 
Ree,  73. 

Reflex  acts,  209. 
Reid,  35  n.  1. 
Responsibility,  336  f . 
Riehl,  on  free  will,  330,  333 ;  on  re- 
sponsibility, 337. 
Rolph,  232  n.  2. 
Rousseau,  41,  308  ff. 


Sanction  of  morality,  129  ff.,  146. 

Schelling,  on  free  will,  333. 

Schoolmen,  on  conscience,  30  ff. 

Schopenhauer,  97  n.  2,  213  n.  1,  232 
n.  2,  289  n.  1,  307,  325 ;  on  free 
will,  319 ;  on  moral  motive,  269  f . ; 
on  pessimism,  294  ff. ;  on  will,  215 
n.2. 

Schwarz,  H.,42w.l. 

Science,  and  free  will,  320;  func- 
tion of,  1  ff. ;  interrelation  of, 
12  ff. ;  subject-matter  of,  3  f . 

Self-evidence,  of  conscience,  90  f . ; 
of  moral  rules,  118. 

Selfishness  and  sympathy,  267  ff . 

Seneca,  187. 

Sensation,  and  pleasure-pain,  243. 

Sergi,  232  n.  2. 

Seth,  J.,  63  n.  3,  200. 

Shaftesbury,  261,  262  n.  7;  on  con- 
science, 36  n.  I,  37  f . ;  on  highest 
good,  194  f . 

Shakespeare,  287,  303. 

Sidgwick.  H..  113  n.  1,  177,  179, 
203  n.  1,  207,  240  n.  3,  262  n.  7 ; 
(^-consciousness  of  freedom.  334 


o^Jiighest  good,  173  ff  .  ;  on  rgp- 


conscous 
Simmel,  73. 
Smith,  A.,  41,  262  n.  7. 
Socrates,  27,  123;  on  highest  good, 

180  f. 

Sophists,  180. 
Spencer,  259  n.  1,  262  n.  7  ;  on  con- 


science, 66  ff. ;  on  highest  good, 

175;    on  obligation,  108  f . ;    on 

pleasure-pain  as  consequence  of 

action,  240. 
Spinoza,  230  n.  1 ;  on  highest  good, 

190  ff. 

Spiritualism  and  free  will,  325  f . 
Steinthal,  on  will,  214  n.  1. 
Stephen,  72,  144  f.,  262  n.  7;  on 

highest  good,  197  f. 
Stewart,  35  n.  1. 
Stoics,  on  highest  good,  186  f . 
Subjective  and  objective  morality, 

142  ff. 

Sully,  93  n.  1. 
Summum     bonum,   see     Highest 

Good. 

Sutherland,  66  n.  2, 73. 
Sympathy,    278    ff . ;    growth   of, 

278  ff . ;    as    a    moral    motive, 

269  ff .  *,  selfishness  and,  267  ff. 
Synderesis,  30  ff.,  89. 
Syneidesis,  30. 

T. 

Teleological  schools,  124  ff. 

Teleological  theory,  118  ff.,  129 ff. ; 
and  atheism,  150  f . ;  and  con- 
science, 129  ff. ;  and  intuitionism, 
152  ff. 

Tennyson,  112. 

Theodorus,  159,  176. 

Theology,  and  theories  of  will, 
323  f. 

Theoretical  and  practical  ethics, 
22  f. 

Theory  and  practice,  5  n.  3. 

Thomas  Aquinas,  118  n.  1, 150. 

Tyndall,  on  free  will,  321;  on  re- 
sponsibility, 337. 

U. 

Unconscious  pleasure-pain  as  mo- 
tive, 234  ff . 

Utilitarianism,  118  ff.,  126  n.  2, 
129  ff .  * 

V. 

Vices,  311  ff. 

Virtue  and  happiness,  303  ff. 


346 


INDEX 


Virtues,  and  impulses,  312  f . ;  and 

vices,  311  ff. 
Volition,  212  ff. ;    antecedents  of, 

215  ff. ;  and  pleasure-pain,  238. 
Volkmann,  83  n.  2. 
Voltaire,  262 ;  on  pessimism,  297. 

W. 

Ward,  on  free  will,  330  f. 
Will,  212  ff. ;  freedom  of,  316  ff . 
William  Occam,  117 ;  on  conscience, 
47  n.  1. 


Williams,    259    n.    2,   274   n.  1, 

315. 

Wordsworth,  98. 
Wundt,  23  n.  2,  73, 110  n.  1,  230  n.  1, 

233  n.  2 ;  on  highest  good,  199  f . ; 

on  will,  215  n.  2. 

Z. 

Zeno,  the  Stoic,  186. 
Ziegler,  Th.,  200. 
Ziehen,  on  will,  213. 


14  DAY  USE 

KBTUR*  TO  DBSK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWS 


This  book 


Wjl-50m-8,'57  TT   .G^era!  Library 

(,C8481slo ) 476  University  of  California 

_  Berkeley 


TCI  13546 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


